The Nerve Magazine - October 2005 by The Nerve Magazine

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Innards

Cover Story

THE NERVE HIT SQUAD

ALICE COOPER 20

The Don (a/k/a Editor-In-Chief and Publisher) Bradley C. Damsgaard editor@thenervemagazine.com

THE NERVE INTERVIEW: “Yes, Mr. Cooper, I’d like to start with a question about your role in the film version of Sgt. Pepper... Mr. Cooper? Hello? Hello...?”

Pistol Whipper (a/k/a Music Editor) Adrian Mack mack@thenervemagazine.com Shotgun (a/k/a Film Editor) Michael Mann mann@thenervemagazine.com Map and Details (a/k/a Skate Shreditors) D-Rock and Miss Kim Launderer (a/k/a Book Editor) J. Pee Patchez The Henchmen (a/k/a Design & Graphics) Dale DeRuiter Weapons Cleaner (a/k/a Article Editor) Jon Azpiri, Sean Law Surveillance Team (a/k/a Photographers) Laura Murray, Jeremy Van Nieuwkerk, Miss Toby Marie The Muscle (a/k/a Staff Writers) Jason Ainsworth, Cowboy TexAss, Casey Bourque, Chris Walter, Jake Poole, Jason Schreurs, Adam Simpkins, Therese Lanz, Carl Spackler, David Bertrand, Herman Menervemanana, Sean Law, Phil Heidenreich, Ferdy Belland, Dave Von Bentley, Devon Cody, Dale De Ruiter The Kids (a/k/a The Interns) -internship available, call 604-734-1611Fire Insurance (a/k/a Advertising/Marketing Dept.) Brad Damsgaard advertise@thenervemagazine.com Plaster Caster (a/k/a Cover Design) Miss Toby Marie Out-of-town Connections (a/k/a Distribution and Street Team) Toronto: Rosina Tassone Calgary: Mike Taylor. Edmonton: Freecloud Records, Shauna Sirockman Winnipeg: Margo Voncook Whitehorse: Jordi and Jeremy Jones Victoria/Whistler: Jono Jak, Lindsay Seattle/Bellingham: Frank Yahr The Nerve is published monthly by The Nerve Magazine Ltd. The opinions expressed by the writers and artists do not necessarily reflect those of The Nerve Magazine or its editors. The Nerve does not accept responsibility for content in advertisements. The Nerve reserves the right to refuse any advertisement or submission and accepts no responsibility for unsolicited manuscripts or artwork. All content © Copyright The Nerve Magazine 2005 Est. 1999

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508 - 825 Granville St. Vancouver, B.C. V6Z 1K9 604.734.1611 www.thenervemagazine.com info@thenervemagazine.com

FATA L F LY I N G G U I L L O T E E N S 13 AAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A L I C E C O O P E R DV D 9 It’s about an Alice Cooper DVD.

10 25

VA L I E N T T H O R R 10

Not the other Thor, who appears on page 25.

T H E D E X AT E E N S 11

Holy Crap, Estrus still doesn’t suck!!!

R A I S E D B Y W O LV E S 15 Billy Bones offers parenting tips.

B O M B S OV E R P R OV I D E N C E 15

Followed by yet another anecdote about his sensitive crimes in a punt with a chap called Norman, who had red hair and a poetry book stained with the butter-drips from crumpets.

DA R K B U S T E R 17

Boston punks take the unusual step of drinking beer.

A R M I TA G E S H A N K S 14

It’s not as posh as it sounds - seriously.

T H E D R A F T 16

Knickers, knackers, knockers!

F I L M : A t o Z o f C r o n e n b e r g 30 Brought to you by the Canada Council for the Arts

P r a c t i c e fiction by C.C. Rose 34 A B r i s k W a l k w i t h M r. B e r t r a n d 11

Off the Record 24 Live Wires: 23 Film 29 Books 68 Skate Spot 33 Ainsworth 34 Worst CD of the Month 27 Crossword/Comics 35 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 5

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CHEAP SHOTZ

Sir Arthur cheapshotz@thenervemagazine.com

“George Bush doesn’t care about Black People.”

Chinese people in business suits looking like the

Richmond Rotary Club sat down beside us with their very tall, very white interpreter/facilitator. They ordered a pile of breakfast stuff they then shared. Big plate of eggs, big plate of bacon... it was big show and cost them about $150. I paid for our breakfast while the tall guy took care of the suit crowd’s bill. I asked him, “Who are these people?” I’m a nosy motherfucker. He said, “They are from the Central Committee of China’s Communist Party here on leadership training.” I should have guessed: the guys all looked like they would shoot you for smoking a joint and the women were ugly as a Christy Clark speech. Communists ... Rotarians ... they are so much Kanye West: Greatest Living American. alike. Later I dropped into the Nerve orifice to pick up some back issues of the magazine that put Vancouver on the filthy, disgusting map of the world. I Brad was there. He was kind enough to know my master load me up with magazines and chat for a to be compassionate minute. Glad to hear the second Nerve Boat and curious. Show went so well. Granville Books is gone. I shed a tear. I wondered your city some that sleepy, sunny Wednesday morning then I sat down with a big cup of cocoa and did some reading. While I was reading I realized Brad was wearing exactly what I was wearing in Surrey back in ‘75. Patterned shirt, flare pants, big wide Former White House Press leather belt. He smelled like stale Irish Spring Correspondent Jeff Gannon Comes soap. I bet he was wearing fucking y fronts. I Out Against Rapper Kanye West. have an old pair of KISS boots he may be interested in. I’ll throw in an 8-track or two if he is interested. Nerve Reader Comments on Smell of Editor - Dillan Dillan Dear Sir, Last week I drove my partner downtown for an insurance seminar. We got there Sadly, the Occupant of the Chair is Still early enough to get into the Georgia White Missing. Spot for breakfast. After we sat down a pile of I was watching the news, and there was a story

"I'm shaking in my boots, honestly. That will be the day, when I listen to an ultimatum from a guy who sucks art dicks." Brad, Nerve Editor

about all the weird junk people fished out of the Burrard Inlet on a recent cleanup. One of the items: a broken chair tossed overboard from the Nerve sea cruise. Now there’s something to be proud of! - Yrs Chris Walter

Canadian Legend Dies Voivod guitarist Denis “Piggy” D’Amour passed away Friday, August 26 at approximately 11:45 p.m, due to complications from advanced colon cancer. He died in the palliative care unit of a Montreal hospital. Even though they were in the thrash metal genre from the early ‘80s on, Voivod were different. More atmospheric - but still punishing. They created a strong fan base throughout their 20 + year career, as they were truly legends who still had a future ahead of them. In recent years, bassist Jason Newstead actually left Metallica and joined Voivod. They were recording their second album with Jason when Piggy was diagnosed. It looked like Voivod was on some kind of strong comeback with 26 songs for a new album in the can when Piggy fell ill. Pearl Jam, at their Montreal gig September 15th, dedicated both the song

Canadian legend. May Piggy rest in peace. - David Von Bentley RFTC-GRTBR Word out of San Diego is that Rocket From The Crypt will be calling it quits on Halloween. RFTC (whose achievements include A) stealing their name from a cooler and much more influential band and B) duping their fan-base into getting the band logo tattooed on their hides) are the guys behind the way-cool Swami Records label and we here at The Nerve sincerely hope that it doesn’t sink with the Rocket ‘Ship’ (arf arf!). Sources reportedly ‘close’ to the band (it says here) say that the group has “had it up to here” with a female Vancouver fan who “is always drunk and crying outside of our shows”. Audience members who got the logo tattoo will now have their free admission commuted to any live performances by the group Chicago (because that is who RFTC sound like). 

“Porch” and the concert to “Piggy”, showing that they had fans outside of the metal world. On a personal note, I have never really listened to Voivod much and never owned a single album. But I respected them, especially “Piggy”, who had a distinct style of his own that. It’s a great loss. Much respect to Denis D’Amour and his music as he was a true

R.I.P. R.L. Burnside

Down On the Street: More Rockin’ Reissues with Sean Law

ou ain’t no Punk, you punk. You wanna talk about the real junk? Well here it is asshole. Rhino has reissued expanded editions of the first two albums by the Stooges. If you don’t already own both of these records you are seriously lacking as a human being. I’m not kidding. This is mandatory listening for anyone even remotely claiming to dig ‘punk rock’. The Stooges were started in 1967 by four dirtbags from Ann Arbor Michigan: James Newell Osterberg

(nicknamed ‘Iggy’ due to his having drummed in a garage band called the Iguanas), the Asheton brothers (Ron and Scott) and Dave Alexander. Their main influences were psychedelic drugs, the Doors, the Velvet Underground and the industrial pound of the Detroit auto assembly line. Shopped to Elektra Records by their friends the MC5, they subsequently cut three albums (two for Elektra, one for Columbia) that didn’t initially shift a remarkable amount of units but would eventually alter the course of rock’n’roll history. The band imploded in Detroit in 1974, Iggy getting knocked out onstage by a motorcycle gang. The surviving members of the band recently reunited and have been playing recently, to rave reviews. The Stooges – s/t (originally released by Elektra Records in 1969,

now reissued as a deluxe 2CD set by Rhino/Warners with bonus disc and extensive liner notes) This record was released in the year that the 1960s died, and it shows. Prominent world events of the year: Woodstock, Vietnam and Charlie Manson. Prominent themes on this album: boredom, degeneracy and sleaze. Guitarist Ron Asheton makes up for any musical shortcomings with an abundant overload of combined fuzz-tone and wah wah pedal. The record is kind of like the VU without the artistic pretension. The whole glorious and beautiful/ugly mess is over lorded by the fucking insane John Cale (then recently divorced from Lou Reed). He also contributes viola on “We Will Fall”, the only track on the original disc which some might describe as ‘filler’ (but not me). The original record contains eight tracks and they all rule. The bonus disc contains only-slightly-different mixes or versions of most of the songs. The one notable exception is the ‘full version’ of “Ann” which goes on for, like, eight minutes or something. It goes nowhere, repeating the final riff in a fuzz tone dirge. Therein lies its appeal. If you’re high. (Which I haven’t been for three weeks now – Ed.) The Stooges – Fun House (originally released by Elektra Records in

1970, now reissued as a deluxe 2CD set by Rhino/Warners with bonus disc and extensive liner notes) Quite simply, this is The Shit. Perfectly seamless blend of proto-punk and free jazz. Has to be heard to be believed. Perhaps the greatest opening hook/riff to the intro of a record on record (“Down On The Street”). Album contains at least five lyrics/phrases that have become legend. Auxiliary nonmember saxophonist Steve McKay forsakes his potential place in the Blue Note Jazz Hall of Fame to permanently stamp his name on this masterpiece. Not for the faint of heart. Bonus disc mainly consists of choice bits from the Rhino Handmade eight-disc box set that was the ENTIRE recording session for the album. You can’t buy that, so you will have to settle for this. Amazing bonus tracks are the single (7” 45rpm) mixes of “1970” and “Down On the Street” - which has Farfisa organ and sound like the

Doors! Overall rating for both discs: Five out of Five. If you didn’t already own previous edition of these discs you need to have your head examined. If you do already own previous editions of these discs you will want to replace your inferior editions (and I do mean inferior). Purchasing original mint-condition vinyl copies of these records would cost you as much as a night at the Hyatt House. 

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Music

Have You No Sense of Decency Sir,

By Adrian Mack

hout! Factory is releasing the 1974 concert film Good To See You Again, Alice Cooper on DVD in November, with extras that include a commentary recorded by the Coop himself. “I was laughing my head off,” he told the Nerve, about the long lost feature. “I hadn’t seen it for 30 years… And I was sitting there watching it, watching Freddy Smoot and Baron Krelve and everybody, and I was going, this is just so silly that it’s funny! It was so stupid that it actually turned the corner and got funny again.” Available only as a bootleg until now, the film catches the Alice Cooper Group at both its musical and commercial height, during 1973’s Billion Dollar Babies Tour. This line-up – the original line-up - would only record one more album together (Muscle of Love) and although Cooper himself would go on to perform various other miracles of subversion as the decade wore on – for hardcore fans, this is where it’s at. The band is in fabulous shape, for one thing, having pickled itself in its prime for the two shows captured here, in Dallas and then the following night in Houston. Captured at that blessed intersection of youth, talent, surging creativity and alco-

At Long Last?

Vintage Coop Gets the Reissue Treatment

holism, the thrilling part is watching these filthy drunks strut through a catalogue of stone classics that includes “Hello, Hooray”, “Raped and Freezin’”, “Elected”, “Sick Things”, “I Love the Dead”, “No More Mr. Nice Guy”, “School’s Out” – all while the precedent smashing theatrical extravagances of the show unfold around them. It’s like the Dead End Kids hi-jacked a Broadway Theatre after mainlining a vat of Seagram’s V.O. They don’t belong in the midst of a production so lavish, because they are clearly dirtbags who are using the unlimited resources at their disposal for all the wrong reasons – consequently we’re treated to a battle between a dancing tooth and a big toothbrush during “Unfinished Sweet”, while Cooper gets nailed in the dink with a big swirly dentist’s drill. Cooper seems a little peniscentric for a good portion of the performance, in fact. There’s often something weird hanging off his crotch, but the degraded ‘70s grain on the

Nerve’s shitty pirated copy prohibits us from knowing what exactly. A turkey neck, perhaps. Or a doll’s head. Speaking of dolls, they get theirs during “Dead Babies”. Later, Cooper is beheaded in legendary fashion as the concert pitches to its mayhem-filled climax. The band encores with “Under My Wheels”, Cooper raises and salutes the stars and stripes, and then everybody beats the shit out of Richard Nixon. The rest of the flick is made up of skits, newsreel footage, a press conference and bits of old movies. They get a lot of mileage out of Ronald Reagan, Shirley Temple, the House Un-American Activities Hearings and an awesome clip from The Dentist, a short film starring that vaporous old lubbard - and spiritual grand-Dada to the early Cooper Band - W.C. Fields. “There’s a doctor lives right down the street here,” he says out the side of his mouth. “Treated a man for yellow jaundice for nine years. Then found out he was a Jap.” The whole shmeer starts with a version

The band is in fabulous shape, captured at that blessed intersection of youth, talent, surging creativity and alcoholism

of “The Lady is a Tramp”, delivered with supercilious élan by Cooper in a snow-white wig and tux. By the end, the band has gone nuts and trashed the set. What a bunch of stinking punks. It’s really no wonder they were such an inspiration to people with only half as much imagination. Cooper’s costume for the first half of the film consists of some filthy looking thermal long johns and platform heels. Cooper is a Republican and a Christian, and has spent his entire career maintaining that the Alice Cooper Group was an act of patriotism, and Good To See You Again, Alice Cooper supports his claims. This is trash elevated to higher trash. It’s cavalier, tasteless and disposable. When Cooper gets on his hands and knees to get with the hot ‘70s trim lining the front of his stage, one pimply teenage asshole with no future and a bad attitude keeps screaming, “Fuck you! Go fuck yourself!” - right into the face of the star of the show. It’s magical. Cooper snaps at him, “I ain’t talkin’ to you. I don’t like boys anyways. Faggots are all alike!” And the crowd goes mental. Honestly - what the fuck could be more American than that? 

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 9

Music Rob Halford, came out of the closet around this same time. Yessir. He is a gay man. Here’s a lesson for the children who speak out of turn: I had a great gym teacher and rugby coach in high school. He was a terrible social studies teacher, and I had him for that too. We saw an awful lot of each other one year. This teacher - let’s call him Mr. M - was a loud bloody bastard, big and fierce. His grandfather was in the Hitler Youth, I think. We talked a lot about the golden days of metallic heaven, years he’d spent ‘banging and drinking in Heavy Metal Parking Lots. To shorten this awful story, one day I broke Mr. M’s heart. Oh lord – it was horrible. I foolishly mentioned Rob Halford’s recent scuffle from the closet of shame. It seemed so obvious to me… but Mr. M never saw that shit coming. His grip on life consequently became very shaky. Did he wonder, maybe, that since the idol of his youth was a dirty little cocksucker, then maybe he

Heavy Metal High School, Part 2

mentioned a compilation CD in a previous column - CMC and BMG: Metal is Our Middle Name. Remember? No? Well, that molded discus hunted me like a tortoise through my high school years, stroking the gentle folds of my teen penis with its fishy mandible. Oh yes, I was turned on to a magnificent world, where men of iron hearts soar to Jupiter on the wings of an eagle, where dainty virgins are shackled to chains of lust in the harem of the Grand Vizier. This is Glory Metal my friends! Sing it – the battle hymn! That’s what I got from this CD, and more!!! Not only my first intro to the mighty Bruce Dickinson - but also Saxon, Overkill, and the post-Halford era Judas Priest. And I loved it! But you see… this is what really matters: the chains and leather hero to end them all,

to show how awesome and TRUE he was much of an impact on me. “Electric Eye” is again. But really, since we all knew he was gay pretty cool; so is “The Ripper”. “Dissident for good now, the lasting impression was more Aggressor” is indisputably awesome and Village People, and less burly and masculine Painkiller had some really heroic stuff going on. (ie. the Priest of yore) like they probably intendBut I saw the reunited Judas at Ozzfest some ed. I saw Robbie live around then – he had time ago, and to be fair, it was a sad, contrived amazing lungs, did all these funny things with tub of shit. his hands, and wore hot, hot leather. Curses to What’s really neat is the wacky stuff the big this foggy memory of mine, but I seem to gay H-man did once free of his heterosexual remember he and his band-mates were decocufflinks. First, he started up an industrial-type rated in black and white Kiss-style make-up: as band called Two and wore some lame eyemysterious as a Chinese unicorn. shadow (the two things gay-rockers invariably It’s funny really, this heavy metal world we do, I guess). John Lowery - who’s played with live in.  everyone from Marilyn Manson to kd lang - was Rob’s right-hand axe-man, and they put out one album called Voyeurs. I never talked to anyone who liked it, or even listened to it, except for one friend who, coincidentally, is gay. He also admits to having been given the duty of showing Rob a good time around town while here on tour. Rob’s non-gay crew didn’t know what to do with him. Fact! Halford, Bruce Dickinson, and Queensryche’s Geoff Tate had the terrible idea of starting a 30,000 kHz rock ‘n’ roll triumvirate called the Three Tremors a few years ago (yes… it’s a lame metal variation on the Three Tenors). The project died unceremoniously, praise Jesus. Bruce’s main-man Roy Z whose career seems to revolve entirely around kick-starting the faltering fortunes of confused 80’s air sirens - made a couple of solo albums with Rob that were really successful. There were lots of poses of Halford on a motorcycle Halford’s $75,000 hemorrhoid donut

People in Abbotsford are so afraid of dick touching dick. was too? You just never know. People in Abbotsford are like that: so afraid of dick touching dick. And art. And interracial sex. And local commerce. It’s hard to recommend the city to anyone who isn’t Mennonite. Anyway, it was a really bad day, and the rest of the grade 9 soccer match wasn’t so joyous after that. As of this writing, it is still the only time that I’ve shattered a man-heart. But ya know, the Priest never really had too

FANTASIA! Valient Thorr Reveal Plan to Manifest in Vancouver By Cowboy TexAss

Valient Thorr show is a hard one to preview. It’s a spectacle. The showmanship and energy of James Brown or Jerry Lee Lewis, ‘70s southern boogie mixed with cock rock, all led by a sweaty, hairy stage phenom who whips his crowd into a cult-like fury: Valient Himself. I caught up with the enigmatic front man as he browsed the isles of a grocery store for ice cream, whilst orating about Hitler, Bush, Disney, time travel and the like.

Nerve: How has the recent signing with Volcom, and subsequent Warped Tour gig changed Valient Thorr? Valient Himself: It’s taken us to a new level for sure. We were pandering to poor 20-somethings before. Now we’re pandering to rich 14something. Very cool. To be a band that’s from outer space going around - there was no bigger outlet for us on Earth than the Warped Tour. Nerve: Right. Go back to that outer space thing for a second... Valient: Yeah, we’re from Venus, near the three ice rivers! Nerve: OK. How… uh, did that come to be that you’re now here, rocking out on Earth? Valient: We crash-landed, in DC. We had a time machine too, but… we were discovered! See, we’ve been here many times, in many alternate realities. 100 times even, been all over the different continents, different time streams. Like in that terrible movie with John Belushi’s brother [Mr. Destiny] where he hits the baseball instead of missing it, and suddenly his life is all-good but he realizes it’s all shit anyways. Meaning - there’s lots of different outcomes, depending on what choices you make in life, and we’ve been to all these different ‘outcomes’. But we left our time machine in 1977 and it was discovered by Walt Disney, and when we went back to get it we found out that we were kinda’ fucked. We were forced to live our lives as Earthmen, with no other alternatives. At first we thought this was a bad thing for a long time, but now – making our place a PAGE 10 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

better place to live has become our mission. Positive vibrations are abounding! Nerve: Tell me more about your beef with Walt Disney. Valient: He is a shady, shady individual. He had no idea what he was doing on Earth. He came to know individuals in power, telling him to do ‘what’s right’. He’s sorta’ like George W. Bush in fact, in respect to human rights, etc. A hypocrite. He got caught up with the wrong characters and eventually became a corrupt man, and later on, got our time machine and escaped Earth. It was rumored that he was on ice, but that’s all horseshit. He never died. Walt Disney is now immortal. Nerve: Is there a Walt Disney vs. Valient Thorr showdown pending? Valient: Ah no. We got the number for that Earthman televangelist though… Shot down the guy from Hustler... [Jerry Falwell?] We called him the other day. He said that Walt Disney was a very Christian man and that we were crazy and he hung up on us. Nerve: What should a concertgoer be wary of at your shows? Valient: Y’know that guy Gallagher that would bust open watermelons with a big mallet… Get watermelon all over people? We’ve got the same thing - with SWEAT. Nerve: What should the Vancouver crowd be throwin’ up on stage? Valient: Panties, weed, liquor, money... Any combination of those. Always appreciated. Whatever the spoils of earth

bands are, we want it. Nerve: Have you ever considered doing a rock opera? Valient: Hell yeah. Let’s just say there’s one in the works. It deals with what’s goin’ on in the media. An observer should look at the whole of American politics as an opera. Not opera in a good way. Things that are going down right now are goin’ down exactly like humungous tragedies (of the past), but those tragedies can be easily turned into comedies. Nerve: If you could ask yourself one question, what would it be? Valient: Another interviewer asked if we expect people to take what we do seriously, or are we

Yeah, we’re from Venus, near the three ice rivers!

worried that people will think we’re joking - that it’s all a joke. It doesn’t matter if people treat it like it’s a joke. It doesn’t matter if you’re from Venus, from North Carolina, Antarctica, Australia. What matters is where we’re going and what we do and what we bring, and we bring it every time we come out, we bring it - to give you a show, a performance, adrenaline, pumping you up if you’re bummed out... I think a lot of that is missing in a lot of Earth entertainment. If someone is lookin’ for a good time, a good show, and wants to get stoked about accomplishing their own goals, come out. If they don’t dig it, they’ll get their money back for sure. And so you have it. All this and more as these outspoken Vikings from space rock Vancouver on November 4th at the Brickyard. 

Music

Don’t Spook the Horse Spackler Gets High on the Dexateens By Carl Spackler

hhh, loosey goosey! Lettin’ it all hang out! If ya’ think, ya’ stink! Pure instinct! That was my summer vacation. Getting up at dawn, drinkin’ black coffee and Red Bull, listening to speed metal and then surfing all day. Then, spent and exhausted, retreating to the campfire to cook outdoors, drink red wine, smoke fine marijuana and listen to righteous nighttime music. In particular on these summer nights - a southern band called the Dexateens, and specifically their second CD on Estrus – Red Dust Rising. These guys have tapped into something very special, very real and fucking wonderful! Sitting here ripped to the tits, the songs make me feel part of the universal, like the night sky, and the roar of the waves on the beach. It makes me feel awe and wonder, yet connected to it. Holy fuck I ‘m reaally high! I’m rollin’! I had a chance to speak with Dexateens front man Elliott McPherson. Read on, cosmic cowboys! Nerve: Where are you? McPherson: I live in Alabama. Nerve: In Tuscaloosa? McPherson: Buhl - that’s 25 minutes out of Tuscaloosa. Buhl is a real tiny little town. We’ve got one stop sign, two little gas stations, and an elementary school - and that’s about it. Nerve: I’ve been to Tuscaloosa once. Got drunk in a bar there. McPherson: What was it called? Nerve: You know I can’t even remember. It was a kind of a big barn like place. It had a high stage and on the other side of the room there was a pinball machine that sort

of divided it in half. McPherson: Yeah, you were at The Chukker. That place closed a year and a half ago. That’s where everybody in the Dexateens sort of met and fell in love with each other, so to speak. We were all playing in different bands. And that was sort of the place. The building still exists but there’s no more rock ‘n’ roll bar. Nerve: I remember the owner was trying to pick up these girls that night. I was starving and broke, and he was trying to pick up chicks by offering them his home cooked ribs. He’d be like, “Do you girls wanna come to my house for ribs?” And I’d lean over and yell, “That’d be fucking great man!” McPherson: [laughing] It was Ludovic. French guy. Bless his heart Nerve: I had a really good time. There was a poetry reading and bands. I recited “Hot for Teacher”. I remember there were pictures of Bear Bryant in every building in town. McPherson: Except in The Chukker Nerve: I got thrown out of a restaurant for giggling at his hat. McPherson: Oh, man, you don’t do that. Nerve: So, I heard your band on the radio and it made my head snap. I asked this DJ friend of mine to play it and all of a sudden you guys came on and it was like, whoosh! Fresh air! Such a great, acid fried, desert, Crazy Horse kind of air. McPherson: We’re all real in to Neil. Especially our drummer. I guess we’re all equally into Crazy Horse and Neil Young but Ralph Molina… Our drummer is just really into the way Molina plays. He totally stays behind the beat. Nerve: It’s funky. McPherson: Yeah, totally. We all love Crazy Horse. Obviously you’re going to be

lots of acid and beer. Just fun. McPherson: I wouldn’t say that Red Dust is a real distant departure from the first album, but the first one is definitely more punk rock and definitely has an AC/DC vibe to it at times. But then Tim Kerr totally made us have this one song. I think you can actually go to MySpace.com and it’s on there. It’ll give you an idea of the diversity of that first record. It’s real Thirteenth Floor Elevatoresque, in so far as it has a real psychedelic feel to it. But outside of that it’s real rock, real fast and lots of feedback and lots of screaming, whereas Red Dust is a little more focused and a little more oriented towards the vocals, melodies and actual singing as opposed to straight-out hollering. Nerve: Did Tim Kerr produce the first one too? McPherson: Yes. He tries to make a band sound on record like how they sound on stage. I really got into his production with the Quadrajets record, Pay the Deuce. Chet, from the Quadrajets and Lee County Killers, he’s an Alabama boy as well, they’d come through and play The Chukker. We got to know Chet, played some shows with him. Nerve: So you have a new one coming out. Who produced it? McPherson: Mark Nevers who has produced all that Lambchop stuff and he also did a couple of Will Oldham records. I’m totally into that guy. Nerve: Are you guys touring a lot? McPherson: We’re going to go to the UK in November. Nerve: They must love you over there. Hustle! Hustle! Hustle! McPherson: Those kids are You block! You tackle! You win! ready to rock. I always felt like they were coming out Come on Dexateens - this isn’t to see if we were gapchinese checkers! toothed hillbillies wearing overalls, which we’re not. Nerve: Some of the Quadrajets have that appeal. Those guys look like getthey should be hosting bass fishing shows. ting compared to McPherson: There’s something to be said other bands no matter… about not caring at all about fashion. Nerve: You guys have your own Nerve: They win that one. sound. I hear things in it. McPherson: Yeah, Chet’s pretty stylish and still Sometimes it sounds like the is, but I remember Pud… Afghan Whigs’ guitar player is on Nerve: Is that the bass player with the beard it. That late night, narcotic, slideand no mustache? playing space, the Meat Puppets,

McPherson: Looks like a diesel mechanic. Nerve: He kind of looks like Ernest Borgnine in Deadly Blessing. That’s a good look, man. McPherson: Yeah, it’s real. That’s the deal. That’s when you know you’re dealing with something that matters and not something that’s totally contrived. Nerve: I’ve interviewed a few southern rock bands and I always ask the same question are there any great unknown southern bands? McPherson: That’s a great question, man. Well, I don’t know where this band is from. I just found this record the other day. It’s called Captain Beyond. Nerve: Oh yeah, that first Captain Beyond is awesome. McPherson: That’s the one that I’ve got! It’s got this weird hologram on the front. Nerve: Yeah. That’s a fucking great record. McPherson: I don’t know where they’re from. Nerve: They’re on Capricorn. Gotta be southern rock! Do you guys still have the same line up that’s on Red Dust Rising? McPherson: John Smith was the first guitar player in this band, and he was a key player and helped write a lot of these songs. He’s not with us anymore. Now we’ve got another guy named Nicholas Memekokis. Nerve: Is he Greek? McPherson: Yes. Nerve: Is he insane? McPherson: [pause] Yes. That’s a requirement to be in this band. That you be a little off kilter. Nerve: It’s also a requirement when you’re Greek, I’ve found. I haven’t met one sane Greek person. I don’t know what the deal is with those people. They’re sweet but don’t date ‘em. McPherson: What can I say? Everybody in the band is kind of nutty. Sweet Dog - he was a Marine for thirteen years. He’s now retired but, obviously, that tells you he’s crazy right there. He’s intense and he pushes, man. This band is not my baby. This band is his baby. I would have folded this band a long time ago if it wasn’t for him. He really pushes me to do my best. Nerve: Like Bear Bryant. McPherson: Sure. Like a drill sergeant, also.

We’re going to go to the UK in November. I always feel like they’re coming out to see if we were gap-toothed hillbillies wearing overalls, which we’re not.

Check them out. This is a band that lives, now! This is for real. www.estrus.com THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 11

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PAGE 12 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Music

FATAL FLYING GUILLOTEENS

need for shitty background music on their website? The Guilloteens sound is more of a loose mix of trashy riffs, sporadic anti-melodies, and By Laura Matsue screaming and/or yelling that is generally comld Dirty Bastard was always my parable to the sound of five unconventional favourite member of the Wu-Tang. I’m musicians having five separate seizures at one not sure if it was his increasingly incotempo. Vis-à-vis the website, Roy can’t really herent raps that solidified my fandom or his seem to explain it, but he does hint at some constantly evolving aliases; he was also known possible copyright infringement. “I don’t know as Osirus, Joe Bannanas, Dirt McGirt, Dirt Dog, what song it is. One of the band members Unique Ason, and Big Baby Jesus. When MTV probably downloaded that off of Soulseek.” As was allowed to film a ‘straight outta jail’-type he began to lecture me on the importance of reality show where cameras followed him from sharing - listing off his favorite items to share, the day he got released, I found myself captiwhich include liquor and bodily fluids - I menvated by the aging rapper as he pulled his shit tion that the band apparently likes to share together: meeting up with young groupies who wardrobe ideas as well. Dressing in different still worshipped him, making phone calls to his variations of the same outfit, they avidly utilize 13 children, all the while trying to respect his the matching outfits shtick. Roy stresses the probation by not going back to what he knew importance of having their style evolve. “With best—doing excessive amounts of drugs. The each new outfit design comes the problem and plan failed, however, and ODB eventually overdilemma that the design is outdated. We don’t dosed on a cocaine/painkiller cocktail in the wear those anymore. We’re onto bigger and studio last November. brighter things,” he says. Unwilling to give me The movie Fatal Flying Guillotine is the any more information about what kind of unisource of several samples in the Wu-Tang’s 36 forms people should expect on their upcoming Chambers, which proved to be a landmark tour, titled The National Pink Out, he suggests inspiration for people across the world, five of that I make a few calls out east for that inforwhom would go on to name their band after the mation. kung fu movie. Having had my interview with As for the Fatal Flying Guilloteens’ routines one of ODB’s children fall through, it seemed before they walk onto the stage, it seems fairly that my next best option was to interview this casual. “Well we kinda figure out 10 songs that group from Texas instead. we might be prepared to play…” Roy trails off Their website holds no truthful information. into uncertainty, then firmly Instead, it’s a visual presinforms me that the plan, as entation of rainbows and Are we prepared for a hur- always, is to “try to convince castles with a looping, Mark to hump a wall by the ricane? NO! We BRING ambient space-age elecend of every show.” the hurricane. We taught tronica mix serving as The National Pink Out will background music. Rita all her fucking tricks. carry a positive anti-racist Speaking with bassist message. Even though Roy Rita is no threat to us. Roy as the band drove to casually calls himself a spic Oregon - he would occaseveral times throughout our sionally interrupt our conversation to comment conversation, in the grand scheme of things he on the scenery, “What the hell was that? A says the tour will be about spreading the love. seagull?” - he confirmed the Guilloteen/Wu“Underneath your skin,” he explains, “Whether Tang connection, but seemed hazy about the you’re black, white or Mexican - we’re all pink exact quote. “Something about… ‘Bang your underneath. We just wanted to share our pinkdead / Fatal Flying Guillotine chop off your ness around North America. We want our pink head!’” he says, “That’s one of the RZA’s lines mixed together.” Commenting on Kayne West’s in “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing ta Fuck Wit’”.” statement that, “George Bush doesn’t care Grilling him for information on ODB’s death, about black people,” I ask Roy if the Fatal Roy’s tone drops as he explains how the loss Flying Guilloteens could maybe give them had personally affected him. “We were upset some extra love this time around, since they and not surprised, but we were saddened seem to have been neglected recently. nonetheless. It wasn’t. ‘Oh, wow… We thought Responding defensively, he pleads, “We always ODB really cleaned his act up this time.’ He care about them, just as much as we care was looking pretty rough.” about any sort of race, creed, religion, or moveMoving onto a lighter topic, I ask why the ment. All equally. We’re not racist! We care

about black people just as much as white people and Hispanic people!” The band, which hails from the same state as the president, shows no support for their fellow Texan’s recent decisions. “Does he not care about black people? I don’t know. I haven’t sat down with George, not lately. Don’t blame us, it’s not our fault. We didn’t vote for him,” states Roy, in an official manner. The tour began in the Chunklet headquarters in Atlanta and will end at the Fatal Flying Guilloteens compound in Houston. Details on the headquarters were held mainly private, but Roy let me in on a few details. “Well, I can’t really give you an exact location,” he starts, “But it’s a compound of sorts. Heavily guarded. There’s a library and an armory… we’re well armed. We live in fucking Houston! We were armed before New Orleans had been displaced there, and we’ll be armed after they leave. We have a wealth of information that a lot of people would like to suppress. It’s good to leave it at the headquarters and then we don’t have to worry about the man getting to it.” He then discloses that the headquarters is the size of eight city blocks. “Are we prepared for a hurricane? NO!” he bellows, “We BRING the hurricane. We taught Rita all her fucking tricks. Rita is no threat to us.” Having not watched the news in weeks, I confess my ignorance about the impending natural disaster facing Houston. Roy admits to be just as uninformed about Canada. “Tell me where the fuck Ottawa is,” he says. “No, really. I have no idea.” On the other hand, being an international celebrity in Canada has its benefits. Last time the Guilloteens played in Vancouver, Roy hit a cop car but pulled out the “Don’t you know who we are?” card and got off with only a warning. “Once the VPD realized who they were dealing with, this is no lie, they asked for our tour poster and our autographs.” Aside from that,

they enjoyed the little time they had to take in the sights that the city has to offer. “I enjoyed watching junkies walk around the street picking up cigarette butts,” he remembers, his voice picking up from the excitement. “I can’t wait for that! I don’t even smoke, but I might take it up for the day!” He throws around the idea of the Nerve sponsoring some kind of cigarette butt collecting contest, and having no authority over

port.

such matters, I give him the magazine’s full sup-

The Guilloteens will be in town for its third time trying to sell a new split EP with This Moment in Black History. The last full length, Get Knived, was recorded with Tim Kerr of the Big Boys in four days. “Tim’s our biggest cheerleader,” says Roy. “Ninety percent of the good things that have happened have been because of Tim Kerr.” They play at the Lamplighter on October 9th with New York’s Parts and Labor. Roy’s final words, in the meantime, serve as an indirect warning to any band playing with the Fatal Flying Guilloteens in the future: “We don’t regret playing with any bands, bands regret playing with us. We don’t make threats and we don’t produce warnings, we just say what we say and you can interpret that the way you wish.” 

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 13

Music

You’re Taking the Piss, Mate

Armitage Shanks By Sean Law

used to live in London in the early 90’s. One of my regular amusements was to go see Billy Childish and Thee Headcoats play at The Wild Western Room at The St. John’s Tavern in Archway (amongst other venues). Over the course of those years two significant things happened: Toe Rag Studios was founded in East London and Thee Headcoats inspired or produced splinter groups. One of these was Thee Headcoatees (fronted by the band’s girlfriends); another was Thee Armitage Shanks (fronted by the band’s roadie/mate Richard, aka Dick Scum). The band name is taken from England’s most popular supplier of porcelain pub urinals (therefore, the average Brit sees the name Armitage Shanks about 18 times per week). The main influences were the groups of their own Medway region and the art school punk bands of the late ‘70s. One of the most memorable sights I’ve ever witnessed was seeing an asthmatic looking Richard shouting out some improvised lyrics to a Ramones cover at one of their gigs: “Sheena is a punk rocker / Sheena is a cock sucker / Sheena is a fucking arse fucker!” All this while his catholic school attired band pounded away behind him and a pile of Headcoat girls frugged madly in front of him. The group eventually enlisted Toe Rag whiz-kid Liam “Baine” Watson to play guitar and make recordings, many of which appeared on the Damaged Goods label. Thee Armitage Shanks touch Canadian soil on Friday, October 28th at Malones, in Vancouver. Using a new invention called “the internet”, I contacted former bar mate Dick Scum for some questions. Nerve: I last saw Thee Armitage Shanks play live circa 1994. What has been going on with the band in the ten years since then? Dick: Wotcha’ Sean, I remember you. I believe PAGE 14 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

you still owe me twenty quid. I’ll take that in Guinness when we get to Vancouver. Since 1994 we have continued to plough the same Medway punk furrow. We have brought out several brilliant LPs: Shanks’ Pony, 20 Punk Hits of the 70’s, Never Mind the Ballcocks, Cacophony Now, 20 Golden Showers and Urinal Heap, plus a stack of singles - none of which sold as apparently no one has vinyl anymore. We are rectifiying this by re-issuing the whole lot on eight-track cartridge and silver beer mats, through 2 Ton Records, our own label. These will all be available after the gig along with tshirts, badges and a selection of our own brand Shanks cheese and wines. We will also have the legendary missing LP Crock of Shit, which we recorded in 1994. We misplaced the master tapes at a strip club in Shoreditch and they have only recently resurfaced after 10 years of looking in every gentleman’s club in London’s east end. Vinyl Japan, who paid for the recordings, have gone bust (booo!), freeing us from a five grand debt and enabling us to finally release Crock of Shit (hurray!!). We still supported Thee Headcoats until it became all Fleetwood Mac, and we still support the Buff Medways and do stuff with Mickey (Hampshire) and the Masonics and the Discords. We now have Serge Dirtbox in as

bass player, and he keeps up the fine tradition of never having clapped eyes on his instrument before joining the band. Vic the drummer has been to Australia, lost his hair, come back, got married, got divorced, met his childhood sweetheart and got married again (a wicca ceremony). He also replaced his drum skins this year for the first time since 1982 and moaned about the cost. Rod Vomit has got married, got a degree, got a stress ulcer and is still playing the same crappy vox with the same set of strings. I have got married, had a beautiful little girl and then my wife got pregnant. I have also had a whole heap of life-threatening illnesses: diabetes, liver dysfunction, arthritis and alopecia - a result of my heroic intake of substances various. The rest of the group is having a sweepstake as to whether I make it through the tour alive. Still haven’t learned the fourth chord. Expect some old faves… Nerve: Your Damaged Goods 45 “Shirts OFF!” with Wild Billy Childish is one of the greatest punk records ever. Are you still in league with Billy? Dick: I still see Billy a lot. I took a 1940’s pushbike round to him just last week. He is going to produce the new LP and is also doing some guitar and singing on it. We are going to write

The rest of the group is having a sweepstake as to whether I make it through the tour alive.

together when I get back from the good ol’ U.S. of Stateside. Wolf from the Buffs plays with us when Vic is abroad, and Bruce (Brand) and Mick are still around from the old days. Nerve: Does Liam Watson still play in the band? Does he still figure into the Armitage Shanks somehow? Dick: Liam gave up live performance in 1998 to concentrate on the new improved Toe Rag Studios and he must feel a little bit stupid now. He now has a Brian Wilson type role in the band. He sits in a sandpit with a fireman’s helmet on and eats Mars bars all day. He plays the difficult bits in the studio and twiddles the filth knob (TM), to give us that distinctive Toe Rag sound that has made so much money for so may people other than him... and us. Nerve: Has the mainstream success of garage bands like the White Stripes or the Hives had any impact on Thee Armitage Shanks? Dick: Who? Nerve: Fair enough. Dick: The only impact as far as I can see is that valve amps and old guitars - which were dirtcheap when we started - are now priced beyond our reach. If we were fifteen years younger, ten stone lighter and had our own hair and teeth it might be different. We’ll keep doing it until it stops. Nerve: What are you hoping to achieve during your North American tour? Dick: We are paying for the tour out of our own pockets, so the first thing is that we hope to pull in enough akkers to get home again. People are so much more responsive and positive on your side of the pond that we hope to get a crowd that digs what we are doing and gets it. More than anything, we want to have a larf and get gatted. Don’t forget to bring along all your mates, acquaintances and people you hate. Also, bring enough money to buy all the very reasonably priced CDs for sale and still have enough left over to buy the band plenty beer. Do I have to sing en francais? 

RAISED BY WOLVES R By Devon Cody

aised by Wolves is among the more exciting rock bands prowling the Vancouver circuit nowadays. If you haven’t seen them or at least listened to their smokin’ debut album Hot Blood, there is quite simply no goddamn excuse. I encourage you to feel ashamed. You need guidance. Let my chat with front man Billy Bones educate you. Your salvation is not yet lost.

going to be great shows here so they just don’t go. Places like Saskatoon have to deal with the winter and then summer and the mosquitoes. Here, you don’t have that. You’ve got guys like Frank Rumbletone who work really hard to provide low-cost shows all the time. Nerve: People seem to be excited about you guys. I noticed you guys were #1 on the CiTR charts about a month back. Did that surprise you? Billy: Yeah, well I figured we’d make it on the charts because we’ve got lots of friends who are DJs there. [laughs] But I’ve never been number one at anything before, so it was pretty

Nerve: For the poor bastards who are unfamiliar with Raised by Wolves, please describe your music. Billy: Well, our sound is a jumble of all the things we like, like garage and rockabilly Jerry Lee Lewis would play piano. Joe and punk rock and Strummer. Screamin' Jay Hawkins would do basically anything that really makes you… I some shrieking in there. Hasil Adkins - maybe don’t really have the put him on drums or maybe Keith Moon. I'd right words, but stuff that makes you want to put the bass player from the Rezillos in there. howl, y’know? Anything I don't even know his name. I'd like Johnny that requires you to lean back before you Cash to show up, too.” - Billy Bones builds go into… I’m into. We the perfect band like really poppy, hooky kinda stuff but it’s gotta cool. be trashy and aggressive still. Nerve: What are some of the local bands Nerve: Care to comment on the state of rock that you’re diggin’ on right now? ‘n’ roll in Vancouver specifically, and Billy: Aww, there’s so many. Canada generally? Nerve: First ones that come to mind? Billy: I think North America as a whole is pretty Billy: I saw this band, In Media Res, from town weak. It seems like in Japan and Europe everyhere, but I saw them near Chicago a few body likes rock ‘n’ roll. Mind you, in Vancouver months ago and they are amazing. They’re not there are so many great bands. I’d say along really my scene, but they played with so much, with Montreal, it’s got the best scene as far as I dunno what it was, just so much nuts behind the bands go. It seems there are more great them. They were really intense. But yeah man, bands than there are people who want to go there’s so many. Ladies Night, Das out and see great bands. Pussyhound, um, Sound City Hooligans, Nerve: Why do you think that is? Vancougar, 12 Midnite, the Beladeans, aww, Billy: Maybe it’s too easy? Everything is so the Tranzmittors, the Smugglers - I don’t even easy in Vancouver so maybe people don’t take know if they are playing anymore but I love that full advantage. They just think there’s always band.

Music

Nerve: If you could compile your ultimate band from other band members, live or dead, who would you chose? Billy: Jerry Lee Lewis would play piano. Joe Strummer is in there. There’d definitely be some alternation on lead vocals. Screamin’ Jay Hawkins would do some shrieking in there. Hasil Adkins – he’s a one-man band so he could probably play whatever he wants. Maybe put him on drums or something or maybe Keith Moon would be on drums. I’d put the bass player from the Rezillos in there. I don’t even know his name. Or the bass player from this Japanese band called the Registrators. He’s real cool. I’d like Johnny Cash to show up somewhere in there, too. Nerve: What is on Raised By Wolves’ schedule in the near future? Billy: We are going to Alberta right at the end of September. Nerve: Having come from the flatlands yourself, where would you say is your favourite place to play in the prairies? Billy: Oh, the Wash ‘n’ Slosh in Saskatoon. Nerve: Yeah! That place was awesome! You could get loaded and catch a band - all while doing your laundry. Genius! Too bad it shut down. Billy: It’s gone?! Nerve: Yeah, I was in Saskatoon a while back and it’s not there anymore. You’ve got two kids right? Billy: Yeah. Nerve: So you take them on tour? Billy: Yeah the kids come on tour. It’s a family event. We bring a nanny with us when we tour.

We’re not sure how it’s going to work on this tour. We’ve only been to Portland and back with them. Nerve: My editor became a daddy recently and this got me to wondering if you, being a rock ‘n’ roll dad twice over, have any words of wisdom for him and all the other rock dudes on diaper duty? Billy: Well, changing diapers is so not rock ‘n’ roll and my kid pukes on me every day. I guess I would just say, don’t listen to anyone about anything. They don’t know nuthin’ about your kid. 

Get Your Shit Covered Dead Baby Horse Cock Tits Out! Bombs Over Providence Delivers Its Career Ending Interview

By Jenna James

fter getting in trouble for shitting on children in a sexual manner, Adam Cook decided to go the route of writing political lyrics with a melodic punk twist suitable for any youngster’s ears. Maybe it was the combination of free energy drinks and beer backstage at Wakestock 2005 that made Bombs Over Providence speak so liberally. Maybe when they found out they were being interviewed by Jenna James, they made the common misconception of mistaking me for, well, I am sure you know who. Nerve: Before Bombs Over Providence what were you guys doing? Chris Corliss: I was in this small town in Africa rescuing these children. Lots of self-satisfaction came out of it. I came back home, met many women, marriage proposals and umm… Whatever. Gary, before, he was working with horses. For thoroughbred horses you want the best semen possible. Gary was a boot man. He stimulated the horse with stuffed animals. Just about when it is time for ejaculation, Gary gets himself in there and directs the penis into the boot. Adam: That is a medical term. You know what the funny part is? To stimulate the horse, you cannot use a stuffed horse. It just does not fly. You have to use other animals. Humans are the most attractive to horses. Which makes a little more trouble to get the boot into the mannequin, and then do you go ass or vaginal? That’s an ethical question that really has found its parameters within the horse insemination debate. Which is what I think is important. Nerve: Are you sure Gary was the one working with the horses?

Chris: Yes, we are all curious people. Now Shawn, what he used to do, he was a gourmet chef. Shawn actually went from flight to flight as a chef. Now this is a sweet job. For all the famous people who flew private jets like the president and U2. Adam: The President of U2? Chris: No! The President and U2, and all these famous people. Isn’t that fucking crazy? He can do anything! Ladies - Shawn is the man in the kitchen. Now Adam, this is very interesting. Adam writes all the lyrics in the band and before that he was an author, surprisingly enough. You have probably seen many of his stories, if you’re into scat porn.

to some dude] Mike: That was actually one of Adams test subjects. He’s all grown up now. Chris: When the shit hit that dead baby, he came alive. Adam: Than all of a sudden, you are a necromancer. Chris: Why did we join a band? You feel something burning in your soul and you know you got to let it out and that’s how Bombs Over Providence became. We met in an internet chat group. I am not even going to say what the chat group was about - it was fucking weird. There were only four members in the group, and that was us. Nerve: Have you ever been stuck in an elevator? Adam: Ha ha ha! Yes, us and Against Me. We drank all their beer. Chris threw up and – umm - that’s a lie. Chris: Shawn lived in an elevator for four months. It was really weird, the building was full and the only room they had left was the elevator. They had three elevators so they let him have one. Every once and a while they would push the wrong button, and he would be constantly going up and down. See him sitting there? See he is kind of rocking back and forth? He’s used to the motion. Nerve: What’s on the schedule for the remainder of 2005? Adam: Touring for our new album. Chris: It’s called Shake Your Body Politic. It comes out October 4th on Underground Operations. That is our baby and that is what’s going to happen. Adam: No more dicking around! Chris: Yes this show isn’t just going to

When the shit hit that dead baby, he came alive. Adam: Well, what I have done is I have defined a genre and have approached it academically. It is hetero-necrophilia scat. Nerve: What??!! Adam: No, no. This is serious. What it is - is dead children and shitting on them in a sexual manner. Nerve: That‘s gross. Adam: No, no, no this is a veritable science. I mean, it is uncomfortable to know how we have had to test the boundaries to figure out what our society will stand for. But we have to do creepy things like that. Chris: So that is what we did. Adam: People thought Da Vinci was a wack too, and look at us now - we think he is great. Nerve: Are any of you still pursuing any of this? Adam: Oh no, no. I got in a lot of trouble for that. Security: Do you guys know that guy? [pointing

happen. Bands don’t just fucking appear on the moon. All the bureaucratic red tape we have to jump through. Adam: You can’t just jump on a bus to the moon anymore. Chris: Like it used to be in the old days. Adam: Yes, the Apollo program. Nerve: Are there any lessons that you have learned? Adam: Yes, do more research before putting a band together. Chris: Background checks on all members. Adam: Screening. Those were valuable lessons. Don’t take anything too literally. Jenna: Anything else you guys want to add? Adam: I think we have covered a lot today. Chris: Take off your shirt take a photo of yourself and email it to me and hold on… hold on… hold on guys. For every photo we receive we are going to send one thousand dollars to War Child. gobombs@hotmail.com 

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 15

Music

The Draft Makes Shifty Deal With Shifty Author! O

ne of the great things about hacking out words for this magazine (notice how I didn’t call it writing) is that I can occasionally use the job to further my own agenda. And as you well know, I am all about furthering my own agenda. Anyway, when I landed the book launch at the Vancouver Library last month, I needed some scrappy, young punk bands to play. I wanted to get the Draft, the Neo Nasties, and Blind Driver, but since Ashtrey (Neo Nasties singer) bled to death at my last launch, I was left with the Draft and Blind Driver (another good band who are also friends of mine). But then there was a slight hitch. When I told Andy from the Draft that the VPL wouldn’t give me any money to pay them, he hemmed and hawed so much - it sounded like someone had shot him through the throat with an arrow. I realized that unless I wanted to fork over my own hard-earned cash, I was going to have to make a deal. So, hoping they would bite, I told the Draft that I’d fool Mack into running a feature about them in Nerve magazine if they’d do the book launch, and sure enough, THOSE SUCKERS SAID YES! Sure, the stink of nepotism will hang over this interview like the reek of rotten carp over a cannery, but it’s not as if the Draft don’t deserve a little press. They are, after all, the aforementioned scrappy punk band that everyone should hire for formal events. Full of piss and vinegar, they were just what the doctor ordered to shake things up at the library. Those old ladies never knew what him ‘em! Did I mention that I also threw in a case of beer? Blind Driver were too hardnosed to make the same deal, so I’ll have to find another way to pay them off. Maybe they’ll just have a little ‘accident’. The Draft are: Mya Mayhem –– lead vocs Colonel Kevin Kontagious –– geetar Andy Loadz –– drums Captain Hate –– bass Nerve: Hmmm… This is difficult. Readers at Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll would want to know where you stand on animal liberation, but the average Nerve reader probably only wants to know what colour Mya’s panties are, so we’ll have to wing it. What colour are Mya’s favourite animals? Captain Hate: The colour of beer. Colonel Kevin Kontagious: What colour is beer? PAGE 16 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Captain Hate: Wet. Colonel: Wet’s not a colour! Captain: That’s a matter of opinion! Colonel: Glo-in-the-dark. Mya: Black. Nerve: I’ve noticed that you all stand together when you’re out watching another band. Do you actually like each other, or is this a conscious effort to present a united front to the outside world? Captain Hate: We don’t like the other bands, so we just make fun of them. Colonel Kevin Kontagious: Yeah, when were watching other bands, we’re really just making fun of them, and talking about how we’re going to kick the shit out of them later. Mya: We’re gonna get beat up for this! Nerve: What does the band like to do when they not ripping it up at the Asbalt? Colonel Hate: Sniff bicycle seats. Nerve: Beer coloured? Captain Hate: Any colour. The colour doesn’t matter - it’s the smell. Colonel Kevin Kontagious: Skate! Mya: I sing in bands… Captain Hate: Mya likes to be in too many

PHOTO: SYD

By Chris Walter

them? I’m sure they have stupid haircuts, and their opinions don’t count. Captain Hate: And besides, they’re Americans. Mya: ‘Mericans… Nerve: You guys like beer, don’t you? Why don’t you call your band the Draught? Captain Hate:That’s a complete misconception! I don’t like beer at all, I like martinis. Mya: As much as we sound like drunken assholes, our lyrics are fairly serious... We cover everything from the hydroelectric power struggle in India, SNC Lavalin (in Canada) building munitions for the US Army, the exploitation of animals and workers in the slaughterhouse industry, society’s aquiescence toward fascist religious domination ... Nerve: They’re not about beer?

Nerve: What does the band like to do when they’re not ripping it up at the Asbalt? Colonel Hate: Sniff bicycle seats. bands. Mya: Well, I don’t have a job, so… Captain Hate: She likes to do anything except for work. Mya: Yeah, fuck work. Captain Hate: Andy likes to plan his weekends around his hangovers. Mya: We won’t get into what else he likes to do on his weekends… Nerve: You can tell me. Aw, nevermind… Do you have any words for those fools from Hot Water Music, who have recently started calling themselves the Draft? Captain Hate:I’d like to invite them to star in my latest schiezer film. It’s called Brown Gold. Mya: And I still want to have a ‘draft off’. Colonel Kevin Kontagious: Who cares about

Mya: They tried to get me to write one song about beer, y’know, a non-political song… But it turned into a Japanese rain song. When I was a little kid, we used to sing this Japanese rain song, and we’d make these little figures out of tissue paper rolls, like snowman, and they’d dance around… Nerve: So it went from a beer song to a Japanese rain song? Mya: Yeah, I can’t write a beer song… Captain Hate: I wrote the music when I was like fourteen, and just kept it on the backburner for all these years. Then we put those lyrics to it. Nerve: Actual Japanese lyrics? Captain Hate and Mya: Yeah. Nerve: Cool. So, who would you like to see

hack each other death with razors? Mya: The guys from the American Draft. And maybe Dick Cheney, and probably that fuckin’ Rumsfeld guy. Captain Hate: The President of China - that guy is a real fuckin’ despot. Mya: That Korean leader, too. In fact, all the world leaders. Colonel Kevin Kontagious: The Hilton twins. With pink, fuzzy razors. Captain Hate: And really, really, skimpy bikinis. Nerve: Do you have any nice things to say about Premier Gordon Campbell? Captain Hate: He’s cute. I like the gap in his teeth. Mya: I think your exact words were that you’d like to stick your dick in that gap in his teeth. Nerve: Hmmmm… that’s a pretty small gap: What should we do about the rampant homelessness and drug addiction in out fair city? Aw, let’s leave this question out. Mya: Captain Hate will probably just say something about shipping them off to Quebec, so maybe we had better skip it… Nerve: I’ve heard that you recently signed with Epitaph. What’s it like working with those burnouts? Captain Hate: That’s complete bullshit - we din’t sign with those assholes! It’s just a rumour. We were in negotiations with them, but they couldn’t meet our demands, so… Colonel Kevin Kontagious: Is a harem of 20 virgins too much to ask? Is there anyone you want to slag? All: Just Andy (missing drummer). Mya: Andy, where the fuck are you? Captain Hate: He’s a wimpy bitch. Nerve: Any final words before we drop the cyanide pellets? Mya: Should we add a disclaimer? Captain Hate: There is no such thing as right or wrong, only differences of opinion. NOTE FOR INTERVIEWERS: Do not conduct interview with the Exploited blaring in the background, as it is very hard to transcribe later. Some of these questions were probably answered by Wattie. 

PHOTO: SYD

Darkbuster

Music

You Got Our Number - Why Don’t You Use It?

By Chris Walter

Darkbuster is still learning how to give the finger, bless ‘em. It’s like watching a newly born giraffe taking its first, calamitous steps.

rrrrrggghhh! I scream in frustration and run all the mobility back. to the balcony with yet another shitty emoNerve: That’s good. Now, you say that you screamo CD. Why do people keep sending wouldn’t go to the Lillith Fair even if the girls us these pieces of shit? Don’t they know that our were in their underwear? I’d have to give it coffee tables are already level? We also have some serious consideration. enough ashtrays. Zing! The CD whips through the Lenny: Maybe I was a bit hasty. If they actually air and hits a passing motorist in the head, causing wanted to get into negligees, I might have to check a massive eight-car pileup. I ignore the carnage it out. But I’d probably go heavy on the earplugs. and go back inside. I have other things to worry I’d kinda want the visual stimulation, but not the about––the state of rock ‘n’ roll for one. The state audio, you know? We ain’t down with Sheryl Crow. of Louisiana for another, but that’s a different [Both sides have a good, sexist laugh.] story… Gingerly, I select another CD and pop it Nerve: I was amazed that you used Mike into the player. To my surprise, this one doesn’t Gurley’s real number in your song “Cell suck the farts out of dead buffaloes! In fact, this Phone”. Isn’t he your bassist? How many calls one is damn good. Darkbuster is straight-up street is he getting? punk mixed with a little doo-wop and ska, and it’s Lenny: He’s getting quite a few. I don’t know what exactly what the doctor ordered to brighten up this time of the morning… rainy afternoon. Just when I was getting ready to Nerve: Three ‘o clock. slash up, along comes Darkbuster to save the day. Lenny: It’s usually some drunken kid listening to I turn up the volume, and sit back to listen. This is the album. Mike is saving them, and we’re thinking good shit. of doing a 7” of just phone messages. Later, I get on the blower and call the guitar Nerve: The Circle Jerks once used a phone player at his home. He number in a song “Group seems like a nice guy, but I Sex”. Turned out it We're hardass hockey belonged to some people can tell that he doesn’t drink as much as I used to. eventually had to fans. We have the benefit who change the number of getting a bunch of Nerve: Your new album is because of all the calls called A Weakness For from Circle Jerks fans. Canadians to play for the Spirits. Does that allude Lenny: [chuckles knowingly] I Bruins to a fondness for ghosts? believe it. Lenny: [laughs] More of a Nerve: Some guy who weakness for booze. It’s kind of an inside joke. reviewed your DVD said that he remembers Nerve: Well, I didn’t want to go with the obvihow exciting the music was before it “turned ous… into an indoor tailgate party on crack”. What Lenny: We have a bit of a reputation in Boston for the fuck is he talking about? liking to tip them back. Lenny: Uh… We get some pretty wild shows up Nerve: Which leads to my next question. here. I don’t know where his logic was there, but Boston kinda reminds me of Winnipeg, my suffice to say, you gotta bring an umbrella ‘cause hard-drinking hometown on the prairies. Is the beer will be flying. It’s gonna be a messy affair. everyone in Boston born with a can of beer in Nerve: The frat boy thing? each hand? Lenny: Not too much, but there’s always going to Lenny: I don’t know if we’re born with ‘em, but we be that element. learn to get at ‘em pretty quick. There are other Nerve: We know what that’s like. similarities too: we’re hardass hockey fans as well. Lenny: We don’t get the two-foot mohawk crowds We have the benefit of getting a bunch of coming to our shows. Maybe when we do all-ages Canadians to play for the Bruins. shows, but there aren’t many venues, so… The Nerve: Yeah, you guys get all our talent. Listen, young kids are more likely to form a circle pit, I heard you cut your finger pretty bad. rather than the football player stuff, ya know? Lenny: It was more like a crushing type of injury. I Nerve: Those jocks are lots of fun. Anyway, I got it caught underneath a scissor lift, which is… see that you won’t be stopping in Winnipeg. Nerve: I know - I used to work construction. Are you afraid those guys would drink you Those things are dangerous, you’re lucky you under the table? didn’t lose your fucking hand! Lenny: [seems to find this highly amusing] I doubt Lenny: [laughs} I lost more than I cared to. it. Nerve: Left or right hand? Nerve: What’s it like touring with Gang Green Lenny: It was my fretting hand… and the Dropkick Murphys? Nerve: Mark Stretch from the Fabulous Lenny: We haven’t started the tour yet, but I doubt Kildonans cut off the tip of his left middle finthere will be any fistfights. Between the bands, ger in a lawnmower accident, and now he anyway… plays with three fingers. Is your finger going to heal? Darkbuster plays the Commodore with Gang Lenny: It’s in the healing process now. A bunch of Green and the Dropkick Murphys Oct 19th. Mike’s surgeries later, it’s almost the same length as my cell phone number is (617) 650-3428, and the best index finger. It’s shorter than it was, but I’m getting time to call is 4:00 or 5:00 a.m. 

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 17

Music

PAGE 18 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Music

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 19

Cover

The Alice Cooper Group drank, I dunno, $50,000 to $60,000 in beer on that tour, and that was mostly me

By Adrian Mack

t’s been a low-key couple of decades for the man who, at one time, represented the greatest threat to America’s well being since the yellow peril. Alice Cooper wrote or co-wrote some of the greatest rock songs of all time back in the ‘70s, while the goon show burlesque and cartoon anarchy of his live show ignited a whole generation of punks. The well dried up in the ’80s and ‘90s, but Cooper has found a creative second wind - like so many of his peers - with that magical 27th album. Dirty Diamonds is easily Cooper’s best for a long, long time and he’ll be in Vancouver on October 19th, whereupon he will preside over the gruesome death of Paris Hilton in the plush surrounds of our historic Orpheum Theatre. Nerve: I understand you kill Paris Hilton as part of your new stage show. Cooper: Britney’s pregnant so you have to give Britney the year off, and so who walks right into our sights? Paris Hilton and that damned Chihuahua, so of course the Chihuahua’s going to rip her throat off. Isn’t that what everybody wants to see? Nerve: Yes. Cooper: She wasn’t bad in House of Wax. I thought she was OK in it. We’re not nearly as vicious. She does come out on a crutch afterwards to get a round of applause. Of course, I kick the crutch out from under her and she falls flat on her face. Nerve: I just received re-mastered special editions of the first two Stooges

PAGE 20 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

albums… Cooper: Cool! Funhouse and… Nerve: The first album. Cooper: Right. Nerve: And then last year one of the best shows I saw was the MC5/DKT concert… Cooper: Yeah? Who’s in that band? I know Kramer’s in there… Nerve: Kramer, Thompson and Michael Davis. The one’s that are still alive, plus some guests. Cooper: I hadn’t seen Kramer in years. And we were doing the last album, The Eyes of Alice Cooper – we did a song called “Detroit City”. It talks about the MC5 and the Stooges and Ted Nugent. We were at Gilby Clarke’s studio. And this guy walks in, he sits down, and he looks like Peter Frampton. And I’m talking to him, and I’m talking to him, and he goes, “I’m Wayne Kramer.” And I looked at him and I said, “No, you’re Wayne Kramer’s accountant.” [laughs] He had short blonde hair and when I knew Wayne Kramer, he looked like me. Black hair, he had black make-up on, black leather jacket. He could have been my brother. And I said, “Well you gotta pick up your guitar and play on this song.” He played on the last album. Nerve: He seems to have been revived, like a few people from that era. Cooper: I’m very proud of the fact that Iggy is still out there doing it, and doing it well. And now the MC5 and Ted Nugent – isn’t it funny that all those bands, who were from the late ‘60s - all

Cover those Detroit bands are still functioning very well. I think that’s amazing… When we first moved to Detroit, we knew the Doors and Love and bands like that. Those were the bands we played with in LA all the time. We moved to Detroit and all of a sudden I saw Ted Nugent for the first time, and I saw this band called the Stooges. And there’s this guy Iggy, and the insane thing about it was, after doing about 10 shows with Iggy, and knowing him, I actually said, I would rather go on after the Stones or the Beatles than go on after Iggy. He’s so good at what he does that the audience is just absolutely exhausted at the end. Then Alice has got to come on and get ‘em back! Now my kind of insanity was totally different from his – mine was much more cerebral whereas his was much more animal, physical, sexual… Alice was much more Phantom of the Opera. But those two bands together were pretty good. I remember nights at the East Town when it was the MC5, the Stooges, Alice Cooper and the Who. Not too bad! And I think the ticket was $6. And at the time, we were all just local bands, happy to be on the bill with the Who. But – can you imagine what that audience had seen that night? All those bands in their prime? It was amazing, but every night would be like that – it would be Alice, Ted Nugent, Grand Funk Railroad and somebody like Savoy Brown. But it was cool! That was a great healthy rock scene back then. Nerve: Is it true you guys set the record for booze money during the Billion Dollar Babies tour? Cooper: Very well could be. That’s not hard to figure out, being as that’s what we did. We didn’t do drugs. As stupid as we were, and decadent as we were, we were smart enough not to mess with drugs. Because we traveled, traveled, traveled – it’s all we did. And in those days, they were looking for it. So, we drank beer. We became the beer band. We drank, I dunno, 50, 60 thousand dollars in beer on that tour, and that was mostly me. The funny thing was this – if you looked at all the commercial bands, the bands like the Monkees, the Mamas and the Papas, James Taylor, Lovin’ Spoonful – all those bands that were just kind of the nice, isn’t-everybody-great kinda, smiley, AM music – they were the junkies! Nerve: Last night I was watching Good to See You Again, Alice Cooper… Cooper: Oh, you got that? Nerve: I got it. Cooper: I’m so sorry. Nerve: No, I loved every minute of it! D’you remember filming it? Because that was from the Babies tour… Cooper: I remember parts of it. I remember the “Lady and the Tramp” thing – I actually insisted on that. I thought that was a great idea. Nerve: It’s quite perverse. Cooper: Now you look at it and it’s so ridiculously silly that it actually works. Nerve: There’s a moment, you’re singing “I’m Eighteen”, and there’s an overhead shot, and you’re holding a beverage, and singing about whiskey – was that cup full of whiskey? Cooper: The funny thing about it was, I never drank on stage. When I went with my psychiatrist the first time, he says, “When you’re Alice, on stage, how much do you drink?” and I said, “I never drink on stage.” He says, “Wait a minute. You’re blaming everything on Alice Cooper, but Alice doesn’t drink. You’re the drinker, not Alice.” He said, “22 hours out of the day, you drink, and Alice doesn’t touch a drop,” and I went, “You know what? You’re right! Alice really isn’t the problem here.” Nerve: What year was that? Cooper: Let me see, that had to be, early ‘80s. ‘Cause I haven’t had a drink in 23 years now.

Nerve: One of the interesting ironies of your career is that you seem to be fundamentally conservative in your private life. Cooper: I think you’re right about that – I think the more conservative on a personal level that I am, the more out there Alice gets. Which really works for me. The more humble I get, the more arrogant he gets. Sometimes I forget I’m Alice Cooper. I’ll be at a movie theatre and people will start coming around getting autographs and suddenly it jolts my memory – oh yeah, I’m Alice Cooper. But when Alice gets on stage... He is the most arrogant, condescending bastard that you can imagine. That is what Alice is supposed to be. That’s what they want him to be. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Alice say thank you. Nerve: I read a quote of yours: “He’s a gentleman. He doesn’t swear but he’ll chop your head off.” Cooper: Yeah, he’ll slit your throat but he wouldn’t be vulgar about it. He’s a gentleman, but again, he’s like Jack the Ripper. He would kill you in a second but he’d do it with the best of taste. [laughs]

I remember nights at the East Town when it was the MC5, the Stooges, Alice Cooper and the Who. Not too bad! And I think the ticket was $6.

Nerve: You just did a radio show with Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols Cooper: Steve’s an old buddy of mine. Nerve: You’re obviously aware that when John Lydon auditioned for the Pistols, he sang along to “I’m Eighteen”. Cooper: I think that Alice was so against the grain. When I came out there was nothing to compare Alice to. Whereas, when punk came out, at least they could say, well, it’s like Alice Cooper, only more raw, more street, and not as musical. Alice even defied rock ‘n’ roll – my whole thing wasn’t just anti-social, it was antirock ‘n’ roll in a lot of ways. We were really a good, Yardbirds type of rock ‘n’ roll band - it was just that when we took it to theatrics, a lot of people just went, ‘Oh, well they’re changing it now. They’re inventing something new that we don’t like.’ Well, the people that didn’t like it were the one’s that didn’t wanna have to compete with it. Everybody else loved it. Nerve: Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band is the worst film ever made, aside from your part and Aerosmith doing “Come Together”. You’re actually funnier than Steve Martin in that movie. Cooper: Thank you! Well, Father Sun – I got to be Father Sun. They said, “You’re gonna be the crooked religious leader,” and I said, “OK. That’s good. I’ll play that.” When we first did the song, first of all I go to the studio and there’s George Martin. OK, I’m already swallowing hard! And I said, “OK, Mr. Martin…” “Call me George.” I said, “OK, George. Martin. Mr. Martin,” and I did the song (“Because”) and I did it just like John. I could imitate John Lennon’s voice so well that it was ridiculous. I could sound exactly like him. And he says, “Well that’s good,” he says, “But how would Alice do this?” And I said, “Oh, you

want Alice’s version.” So then I did it as Alice, and made it very cynical and sinister, and he was just laughing. “I love it!” He said, “John’s gonna love this! You’re taking one of his prettiest songs and just making it evil as can be.” I said, “Well, that’s what Alice does.” That was his favourite track on the whole album. And the Bee Gees did all the background singing. How weird is that? Nerve: Do you remember the filming? Cooper: Oh I remember all of it – I was sober then. I was sober for a year, fell off the wagon, and then I went back to hospital and it worked. But I was sober when I did that. Nerve: Well, it’s quite a performance. Cooper: Well, when they said, “You get to beat the Bee Gees up.” I went, “I’m in,” even though the Bee Gees were actually good friends of ours. Nerve: The Bee Gees are great – including their disco stuff. (Fuck you, Nerve reader) Cooper: Saturday Night Fever is the Sgt. Pepper of disco. Nerve: I know! Cooper: And anybody that doesn’t believe that is out of their mind. It is the Sgt. Pepper of disco, and if you’re in Cannibal Corpse, or any of those bands, and you have Saturday Night Fever, it’s OK. Nerve: You were in the movie Sextette – the other worst movie ever made. Cooper: Mae West, Keith Moon, George Raft, Dom Deluise, Ringo Starr – it had everybody in it. Timothy Dalton, later to become James Bond. I played a singing Italian waiter. This is a true story. After we got done doing the song, Mae West came on to me. She goes, “Why don’t you come on back to my trailer?” And I’m going, “Because you’re 84 years old! That’s why! And you’re probably a guy!” Nerve: She wasn’t looking so good in that film. Cooper: No, but she was very, very active. And the funny thing was, she had an earphone that was telling her lines, and they’d say, “Darling, I love you,” and she goes, “Darling, I love you,” They’d say, “Now, move three steps to the left.” She goes, “Now move three steps to the left!” They’d say, “No, no, Mae, that’s a direction.” Nerve: D’you know that Ike Turner sound checks with “Only Women Bleed”?

Cooper: I knew that – I knew that Tina Turner did “Only Women Bleed”. She did it live and I never did get a recording of it, but I really wanted to hear that recording. I’ve heard Etta James do it, and I’ve heard Lita Ford, this girl Julie Covington had a number one hit with it. Nerve: There’s a story that your old producer Bob Ezrin taped the sound of his own kids crying for Lou Reed’s Berlin, after telling them that their mother had died. Cooper: Not true. He would never do anything that would ever affect his kids. Honestly, the guy is the most protective father I’ve ever seen. But it’s a good story! Now I’ll tell you a better one. We’re getting ready to put the strings on “Only Women Bleed”, and it’s about a 50-piece Toronto Symphony Orchestra – Bob’s got hair as long as I do, and we’re both about 25, 26 years old. And they are looking at us with amazing disdain. They’re going to play these charts that we wrote? How dare we! These are 65 year-old symphony guys. So Bob says, ‘”Let’s go,” and they started up. And about half way through it, Bob say, “Stop!” He says, “Third cello, on the fourth seat, your E string’s flat.” And the guy goes, “What?” And everyone stops. They all look at him. The guy hits it, and it’s flat! And he says, “Let’s take a break.” And they all get up, and now, of course, now they have total respect for Bob Ezrin. If he can hear a flat string, out of 50 strings going on, and tell you what chair it is! So I said, “Bob, that’s really amazing!” He says, “Well, when they took their last coffee break, I detuned it.” He knew it was already flat. He said, “The only way I’m gonna get any respect from them is to pull this on ‘em” After that it was all, “Is this OK, Mr. Ezrin? Is that OK, Mr. Ezrin?” Isn’t that great? Nerve: Will you ever work with Bob Ezrin again? Cooper: I just had dinner with him, two nights ago. We were talking about something I have written with Alan Mencken, Alice’s Deadly Seven, which is about the seven deadly sins. His music, my lyrics. And of course, Bob Ezrin would be my first choice to produce it, so, he’s getting all those tapes, we’re gonna start talking about that. To me – that would be the best, right there. And if Bob likes it and Bob really gets into it, that’ll happen. 

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 21

PHOTO: J. HUBBARD

Music

PAGE 22 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Live Wires

GIGANTOUR Pacific Coliseum, Vancouver, BC Friday, September 9th, 2005 OK, so it’s true I missed most of the show. Fuck ‘em. Total coverage my ass. For my money, without the great and wondrous Dillinger Escape Plan - who of course cancelled due to an injury - the point of this gong show was moot. Nevermore - don’t care. Life of Agony - don’t care. Fear Factory - well, I was pretty curious to see a post-Dino performance, but, oi well. Brian Jonestown Massacre Richards On Richards, Vancouver, BC Saturday, September 10th, 2005 Fucking train wreck. I get the impression that the crowd wanted to see Anton do something outrageous. Well, for what it’s worth, they got it. A bad omen upon my late arrival: the band weren’t even there yet. Faced with a sold-out room, a ticking clock and an empty stage I guessed this would be another gig that got fucked by our ever-vigilant border guards (Arthur Lee anyone?). With a 10pm kick-out (to get the cellphone-toting, breast-augmenting, coke-sniffing airhead crowd in for Salsa night), I figured that the gig was kaput. But things took a sudden upswing when the band arrived and began hurriedly setting up their gear. Supposedly the gig had been delayed by an overturned fish truck outside of Bellingham (no word on whether or not they were feathered). Anton’s on stage thanks to the crowd and the venue for their patience was met with rapt applause and cheering. The venue would be extending the gig ‘curfew’. An adoring fan plied the whole band with rounds of shots – a nice gesture, but probably a fatal mistake. Anton pulled his shirt off and the majority of the girls creamed their jeans. After some tuning-up and jamming they finally started to play. With the first number out of the way, Anton made some incoherent comments about Canada/US relations. Then another song. Then some more rambling, which got drawn out when some fool in the audience opted to call Anton a ‘cocksucker’. All cross-border goodwill promptly evaporated and Anton’s invitation to the heckler to “get up on stage and say that” was declined. The heckler tried to hide behind his girlfriend (whom Anton claimed he would be fucking later). Another song, then some more rambling - lots of rambling. During the next song Anton started dry-humping his Vox guitar against his amplifier. This went on for ages. The final number was essentially a drawn-out jam. Anton had spent as much time ranting as he had playing. For a 15 dollar ticket price it worked out to about $2.50 per song. No thanks to the fish truck, and no thanks to the cocksucker who got Anton riled up. - Sean Law Brian Wilson Queen Elizabeth Theatre, Vancouver, BC Monday, August 29th, 2005 Wilson and his partner Darian Sahanaja have assembled a show that brings tears to your eyes. Some might have been dismayed at the sight of so many LA session dweebs, but that ignores the fact that most of the Beach Boys best-known records were made by LA session dweebs. The first set was a mood builder that featured obvious classics like “California Girls” and “I Get Around”, and some less obvious ones like the spellbinding “Please Let Me Wonder”, “The Little Girl I Once Knew”, “Breakaway”, “Marcella” – even “Little Saint Nick” from the great Beach Boys Christmas Album. Smile followed after a short intermission. If you dig the new Smile, there’s little to say about the live version except that it’s a home run, the theatrics are a little hokey, and it has a once-removed quality from

Boba Flex - who the @#%*? But Anthrax, sweet Anthrax - I was excited about you. Oh yes... But obviously I’m WAY out of the loop. I expected a heaping spoonful of Anthrax NEW: ya’ know, the John Bush-fronted ‘90s/millennial variation. What I got was a total ‘80s revival! Fucking Joey Belladonna?!?!?! Frank Bello! Dan SPITZ! Last I heard about Mr. Spitz, he was buddies with Jesus and had found his calling as a clock-maker. Not what I expected, but great. “Indians”, “Got the Time”, “I’M THE fucking MAN”!!!!!! Holy hell. Joey hasn’t cut an inch from his grotesque skid row mane in 15 years, fluffy bangs and all. Scott Ian was as cool as I always knew he’d be, cute as a goddamn teddy bear up there with his axe, stunted body shape and wicked circle stomps. I’d neglected the ‘thrax back in their heyday. What a fool. Now they’re the only one of the Big Four ‘80s thrash acts to still be cool, respectable, and decent (nonRepublican) people. My apologies and god bless ya’. Till next time. But unfortunately, this was Megadeth’s show - that is, Dave Mustaine plus three other guys no one recognized. Dave didn’t seem to be enjoying a minute of it, just stood there staring at the fret-board with that notorious strawberry blonde muff of his obscuring an ugly sneer. A totally stale ‘80s pastiche - industrial fan blowing drummer’s hair upwards, to dance like hair-sprayed tulips amidst his overhead army-strength cymbal mega-mount. Super (dis) poseable guitar heroics. Props to the Mega-boys, though: the new album’s return to roots is so convincing, it took me over a minute of “Kick the Chair” to realize it wasn’t a So Far, So Good, So What… obscurity like I’d thought. Dave politely and thoughtfully encouraged the audience to donate blood for the needy in New Orleans, but then dedicated “Tornado of Souls” to Katrina’s victims. Not only inappropriate, since it was a HURRICANE and a broken levee that drowned the the mythic original. It’s like seeing Mamma Mia, but ABBA shows up. Also, Brian Wilson is a tragedy. His voice was fine tonight, even when he was being doubled by a mysterious helper somewhere in the band, and occasionally he’d look over at Sahanaja and they’d give each other the OK sign. But up close, Brian Wilson looks like a man who gives his every waking second to not cracking up. Fifteen years ago, I was lucky enough to see a Beach Boys show in Calgary with Brian Wilson, but without Mike Love. It was the perfect Beach Boys show, in other words, if you can get over the fact that Dennis was dead and they had John Stamos on drums. Brian was fully nuts that day, and told the horrified crowd that Love had been killed in an accident - they were feuding that year - and I thought at the time that Brian Wilson’s mental illness was just hilarious. But it isn’t. Smile 2005 is extraordinary, and God must surely be pleased that Wilson’s teenage symphony to his awesome greatness has finally been finished. Too bad the miserable bastard will never see fit to return the compliment. - Adrian Mack New Pornographers / Immaculate Machine / Destroyer Commodore Ballroom, Vancouver, BC Friday, September 23rd, 2005 The Commodore Ballroom smells funny. I can only imagine what it must be like when the bands stink too. I can only imagine, thankfully, because this show rawked. Immaculate Machine blew me away with their combination of nerdy electronic blips and bleeps, melancholy no friends kind of depressing ballads, and upbeat kick me in the balls rock ‘n’ roll. As for Destroyer, I’ve been a big fan ever since I saw them play a gig at the Blinding Light, prior to a showing of The Point, where local acts all played a Harry Nilsson song each from that film’s soundtrack. They were great as always, although it wasn’t till now that I realized how often Dan Bejar uses the words “children” and “pioneer” in his lyrics. What can I write about the New Pornographers that hasn’t already been written? Nothing. In fact, it’s pretty ballsy to think I can add any insight, so I’ll just let you know it was never my intention to be profound and that writing this review was just a way to make sure I made it into the gig. At any rate, they rawked and Neko Case was wearing a bizarre yellow evening gown/curtain. The New Pornographers have more polish than Avon. The highlight of the night, without question, was a nerd standing alone near the front of the stage who wore an Immaculate Machine shirt while I.M. played, a Destroyer shirt (homemade) while Bejar was sing-songing, and a New Pornographers tee when they took the stage. He also smelled funny. - Kliph Nesteroff New York Dolls / Black Halos / Quincy Gold Commodore Ballroom, Vancouver Thursday, September 1st, 2005 First up, Quincy Gold. Apparently, everyone knows the drummer, who also works at the Commodore and was

poor city and not, in fact, a tornado - but geez, Dave, best thing since the Dawn of Man. True! Watch the it’s a lyric about one of your tempestuous knuckle20th Century Box feature - you can learn all about the head romances, not the deadly power of Mother cardboard guitar “phenomenon”, and may also catch Earth. So nice try, but lordy, what a confused lad. a glimpse of the “real” Mr. Bertrand, if you’re sharp Case in point: “This song is about what happens and astute. when you mix politics and religion,” said ol’ Daver Highlight of the night came on the way home, before the “Holy Wars…” finale, as some kind of supduring a pleasant conversation with a couple of crackposed half-assed warning. Yeah buddy, YOU VOTED heads: “Hi.” “Hi,” said I. “Oh don’t mind us, we’re just for the most retarded maniac this side of Henry Lee tweaking out here.” Lucas to run your beloved country, another born- Dave Bertrand again like yourself who is utterly and completely in favour of reuniting the Church and State, and who actively Megadeth leads a slaughter campaign in far off lands against those who defy his megalomanical, capitalist, war-lusting Christian values. Not to jump up on a soapbox myself here, but it’s a little hard to stomach the diatribe of a jaded oaf whose every word is instantly negated by the next confused garble to tumble from his lips. Could somebody get this guy back on the fuckin’ sauce, PLEASE? Admittedly, the song selection was great and varied, the pyrotechnics were loud and bright (they nearly sizzled the eyebrows off the photo team) - all the people loved it. You’re STILL A DOUCHE, Mustaine. Incidental moments of mention: some Friday night at the Roxy-looking dude did an insane stage-dive off the riser on stage-right, while his drunken buddy, in the midst of chickening-out from a similar attempt of derring-do, fell hard backwards, presumably shattering his tailbone in full view of the gathered groupies - a pitiful, shameful embarrassment. And how about the die-hard fan packin’ heat with a CARDBOARD GUITAR!!! Have you all seen the Iron Maiden Early Days DVD? No? For shame! You won’t know what I’m talking about until you’ve see it. God, it’s brilliant. Even ol’ Daddy Mack, who hates Iron Maiden, agrees that that DVD is the BOTH PHOTOS: JACKIE DIVES

PHOTO: J. HUBBARD

Anthrax

wearing an MC5 shirt, so I better not throw dirt on ‘em. They were alright, actually. My pal said they sounded like Queens of the Stone Age, but I thought they sounded like they were from Toronto. Whatever that means… Soon the Black Halos hit the stage, and I was glad to see that Billy Hopeless wasn’t hooked up to an I.V. machine like he was the last time we met. In fact, he bounced around just like always, with no apparent signs of ill health. You cannot kill the Halos: they go through stuff that would wipe other bands out instantly, but they just keep plugging away and getting better all the time. I still wish Billy would keep his clothes on, but I love the Black Halos, so when he starts stripping, I just close my eyes and pretend he’s still dressed. I can’t think of another band that would be more appropriate to open for the Dolls. But that bass player better not pretend he doesn’t see me next time I’m on the Skytrain… I was very patient waiting for the Dolls. After all, I didn’t kill anyone. Finally, they sauntered out, and there they were, THE NEW YORK DOLLS! Well, David Johansen and Sylvain Sylvain, anyway. The others are dead now, but the show did not suffer too much as a result. Steve Conti on lead guitar doesn’t have the chic junkie style of Johnny Thunders, but he wasn’t fucked on smack, so he sounded great and had tons of hot licks. It wasn’t until the third song that it really sunk in. I was watching the band, and all of a sudden, I realized that DAVID FUCKING JOHANSEN was standing on the stage ten feet away from me! I grew up with the Dolls, so this was very special, indeed. There was Iggy, and then, even before the Ramones, there was the New York Dolls. And this was no revival act: the band paced themselves at first, but then, by the time they got to “Human Being” and “Personality Crisis”, they pulled out all the stops and poured on the heat. They played all those classic songs and it was hot, sweaty, and nasty, just like a great rock ‘n’ roll show should be. I wandered away after the encore, wondering if the whole thing hadn’t been some glorious dream. I can die happy now. - Chris Walter System of a Down / The Mars Volta / Hella Pacific Coliseum, Vancouver, BC Saturday, Sept 17th, 2005 After a routine frisking performed by what was either a large woman with lip hair, or a man with big titties, I was corralled with the rest of the cattle through the doors of the Pacific Coliseum right into what seemed like a sound check. It was, in fact, Hella – a couple songs into their set. Too bad I didn’t arrive fashionably late. There might be people out there who classify this differently, but tonight it was just noise. At the best of times I’m skeptical of how enjoyable a stadium gig can be. In addition, I heard from several people – who saw them when they toured with the Chili Peppers a few years back - that the Mars Volta live show did not lend itself well to impersonal, acoustically-unfriendly venues like this one. My expectations were low. When the Volta kicked into its first song, I couldn’t even recognize it because of the poor sound levels. Lead singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala gyrated back and forth across the stage performing an array of complex mic tosses – I imagine he’s spent

hours perfecting them in front of a mirror at home whilst busting out dance moves that brought to mind an epileptic Axl Rose and a methamphetamized Bill Cosby. The visual entertainment value was high. The psychedelic backdrops made me wish I was high. That way, it might have occurred to me to puncture my ear drums with my car keys, as some sort of relief from the ghastly sound. System of a Down offered the complete opposite of the previous set. They sounded great and played tighter than a nun’s cunt – but I expected more spectacle from a band with such quirky musical and extreme political leanings. Front-man Serj Tankian seemed to be bordering on boredom for most of the set, and guitarist Daron Malakian’s bang your head, wander around stage, say ‘Vancouver’, bang your head, fall to your knees, and repeat routine got old really fast. What played out was a rather conservative performance from what I thought was the antithesis of a conservative band. - Devon Cody The Bravery / Maximo Park Commodore Ballroom, Vancouver, BC Sunday, September 11th, 2005 I’m hardly a music snob, but what irks me to no end is that people are duped by shitty bands. The crowd at tonight’s sold out (sold out?!) Bravery show pretty much reflected everything that is wrong with music today. How the hell can a band with only one 30minute album sell out a venue the size of the Commodore? Because people don’t give a shit about music. They want to be entertained, they want to feel edgy, and apparently, they feel the Bravery can accommodate these needs. And why not? The New York City based band poses like rock stars, plays digestible synth-based music which you can either rock-out or dance to (whichever mood strikes you) and it doesn’t really take much to soak it all in. It was no surprise then, that the Bravery ran through their entire album, pulling out clichéd rock moves (lead singer Sam Endicott leaning into the crowd just barely allowing the throngs of chubby girls to stroke his weathered-looking leather jacket) and putting on a very rehearsed and orchestrated show. The hits were played, the monkeys were given their bananas, and all will be forgotten within days. Thankfully, this dreadful night wasn’t a complete washout. Opening act Maximo Park was well worth my price of admission (ha, like I would pay for a gig). Although coming along a little late in the game, the Northern England post punk (or whatever) combo did their best to impress its Vancouver audience. Also without much of a repertoire, their 45-minute set exercised some devices that the Bravery might want to take note of: diversity, songwriting and killer moves. And while the Park may get lumped in with a number of other recent British exports (most notably the Futureheads and Kaiser Chiefs), they have enough spunk and style to carve out a little niche for themselves. - Adam Simpkins

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Music Off The Record NASHVILLE PUSSY

Nerve: How did Karen Cuda come to be on board? Ruyter Suys (guitar): We had auditions all across the country and she won the spitting contest - 23 ft! Just kidding, she actually lost a bet. Nerve: You all seem to be little ‘highly sexed’, shall we say. What’s it like behind the scenes on a Nashville Pussy tour? Suys: Loud and smelly! We don’t think we’re oversexed at all. To the contrary, the rest of the world needs to GET SOME! Nerve: You got to play with Skynyrd a while back. Have you had any other classic southern rock encounters? Suys: Every day of our life is a classic southern rock encounter. For example, doing blow all night long with the lead singer of Molly Hatchet - that’s pretty classic. Nerve: Are you guys into the DriveBy Truckers, or is that too wimpy for you? Asshole Parade s/t No Idea Very fast, noisy, and intense, it’s easy to imagine Asshole Parade poking the eyes out of puppies and pushing old ladies down the stairs. Man, this shit is fast, and so far, the songs are coming in at less than a minute! Holy shit, here’s a version of “Red Tape” by the Circle Jerks even faster than the original. Damn, this definitely puts the ‘fuck you’ back in punk rock! Sharpen your knives and lock your doors because Asshole Parade might be coming. - Chris Walter Black Label Society Kings of Damnation - Era ‘98 - ‘04” Spitfire Zakk Wylde has assumed many personas over the years - Viking, Biker, Viking-Biker - but through it all, the one consistent thing has been sacripping music that gives a much needed cunt fuck to metal in general. He started off possibly saving Ozzy’s career as a teenager in the ‘80s, then branched out in the mid ‘90s to form Pride and Glory which was drenched in southern sounds from this Jersey yank. He then went solo with his album Book of Shadows - a sensitive ass-grabbing affair with nothing but acoustic tracks done in the vein of Jar of Flies or G‘N’R Lies. This showed the man had a heart underneath the 235lbs of muscle, spilled beer and pussy juice-encrust-

Suys: We haven’t really seen them since they played our old bass player’s wedding six years ago in Athens, GA. and we were pretty drunk. Nerve: Explain what makes southern rock so fucking great. Suys: It’s just that good. Nerve: Given the current political climate in the US, is it a good idea right now to “unbuckle the Bible Belt and suck God’s dick”? Suys: I think our president is doing it right now - or at least kissing his ass. Nerve: What’s up about fucking your sister who has your dad’s mustache, and is she giving the devil a blowjob? Suys: What did you say about my sister? Who you been talking to? Nerve: How was working with Daniel Rey? Suys: Righteous. He’s the motherfucking rock king. - Dale DeRuiter

ed gargantuan beard. After the solo trek, he reacquainted himself with his mighty balls and returned with Black label Society. Zakk has never looked back. The man has pounded out some of the heaviest riffs and solos so dearly needed in this era dominated by the sounds cum drizzling from the radio. “Bored to Tears’” grooves, with power; “Stronger than Death” pounds; “Crazy or High” sums up the man making this music. The albums Pride and Glory, Book of Shadows, BLS are all represented here, making this a must have for anyone who drinks, fights or generally likes good music. - David Von Bentley Bloody Hells Bootleg CD-R This side project from Cretin of the Dayglo Abortions, features angry and obnoxious punk rock in much the same vein as the Dayglos, or Lummox without the country influence. Poor old Cretin, he’s like a shark that will drown unless he writes songs when he should be sleeping. This is classic shit, and someday it will be worth tons of money, so I’m going to sit on it for a bit, and then put it on Ebay. Any early bids? - Chris Walter Bobaflex Apologize For Nothing TVT / Universal Shaking off the industry standards in

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a world where the addition of a DJ is considered to be “experimental”, Bobaflex finally brings something new to the table. With four distinctly different vocalists and no clear “lead”, this album is by far one of the most entertaining that I’ve auditioned in a while. One part hip hop MC, two parts vocalists choking on glass, and in regards to the final voice well, lets just say that StaticX’s front man is gracing a milk carton somewhere. Reminiscent of a time when Anthrax and Public Enemy were bringing the noise and Onyx and Biohazard were being boys, Apologize For Nothing delivers an almost house party vibe with huge riffs and virgin tight precision. Still, didn’t groups stop making records like this due to lack of interest? It will be interesting to see where Bobaflex is two or three years from now. - High Plains Drifter

Nashville Pussy Get Some Spitfire Need some new dirty rock ‘n’ roll to get fucked to? The Pussy is back, and would like you to get some. For its first release on Spitfire, you can tell what the Pussy is about this time around from one look at the outstanding cover. The sex-baseball-pinball game theme leaves no question that this album is about scoring. High scoring, indeed. To be fair, not all the songs are strictly concerned with sex – “Hate and Whiskey” is about being ready to fight - but it still has its sleazy and slightly carnal undertone. There is also a cover on this disk of an old Ike and Tina Turner hit called “Nutbush City Limits” – yeah, I never heard of it either. It’s funny because if I would have known that the old double Turner sang about ballin’, I might have had more interest in their catalogue and not just their ridiculously dramatic personal lives. [“Nutbush City Limits” is probably Ike and Tina’s ONLY song that ISN’T about balling. Goof. - Music. Ed.] The whole CD has the usual glorious Nashville Pussy grit throughout, due to the goddess of a guitar player, Ruyter Suys. Karen Cuda, fresh from Hemi Cuda, is now on board. It makes total sense, of course, because the overt sexuality that she displayed in her previous band lubed her up for a painless slide into the Pussy. Oh, there are some dudes in the band too. They play drums and sing. - Dale De Ruiter Bones Brigade Older Than Shit, Heavier Than Time Coalition Say what you will about retro, but ‘80s skate rock has always done it for me, and probably always will. It’s what I grew up on; the Thrasher Skate Rock tapes were the first music I ever heard that wasn’t mainstream metal. With this special place in my heart reserved for fast, punky guitars and lyrics about dropping in on half-pipes, the latest by Bones Brigade was pretty much a no-brainer. This is fast-as-shit skate-punk with raging Rocky George guitar solos and songs about how much they hate Ronald Reagan. Can’t go wrong there. Throw in a Suicidal

Tendencies cover of “Two Sided Politics” and, yeah, you know what I’m talking about… - Jason Schreurs Chiodos All’s Well That Ends Well Equal Vision The cover art is so beautiful, I could just stare at it for hours, one hand apiece on joint and genitals. There’s this ancient bearded man (painted purple) on a rowboat, a big wooden oar in hand, and a cloud and water that seem to wisp away with the wind just like the man’s scraggly chinmane. It’s drawn by Paul Romano, who did that awesome Moby Dick art for Mastodon’s Leviathan a little while ago. You’d think this would have to be the best stoner album ever made, with a cover like that, obviously conceived on the peak of Mt. Olympus by some divine Viking marijuana minotaur. But here’s the catch people – this isn’t even a stoner album!!!! No! It’s something really trendy, like an At The Drive-in/Mars Volta kind of thing, or Dillinger/Converge-lite, if you prefer, in terms of the approach, energy, and unconventional riffage, but with mega-sensitive melodies and a whiny-ass voice and way crazy song titles like “No Hardcore Dancing in the Living Room”, that have absolutely nothing to do with anything lyric-wise, EVER. Pseudo-classical piano is all over the place, often bordering on cool but usually just plain gay. The musicianship is topnotch. Emocore? Metalcore? Dancepunk? Pick your favorite genre label. I’m gonna keep it for the pretty pictures. - Bertrand Coheed and Cambria Good Apollo I’m Burning Star IV Volume One: From Fear Through the Eyes of Madness Columbia This album is as long-winded, excessive and pretentious as it’s name. Yes, it’s prog rock at its finest folks. Prog rock fans have said this is the best thing since Rush’s Moving Pictures. I am not a fan of prog rock and have definitely never been a fan of Rush. I would like to be unbiased here but I fear 72 minutes of overthe-top instrumentation and an aneurysm from all the Geddy Leelike wailing has mangled my neurotransmitters. Nonpartisanship is now impossible. Lobotomizing myself with a spatula would be more pleasant. - Devon Cody Darkane Layers of Lies Nuclear Blast The first things that generally come to mind when somebody mentions Sweden is its national bikini team, legal bestiality and Abba’s ball bouncing pop music. The first thing I think of, on the other hand, is the Gothenburg metal scene. With more than a cumillion different bands all trying to sound like At the Gates, it’s pretty cocking hard these days to stay fresher than grandma’s panties, but Darkane has done it with their fourth and finest effort to date. Peter Wildoer’s spastic drumming makes that dude in Def Leppard want his arm back (even more), Chistofer Malmström’s shredding makes me leak unknown fluids in bliss, Andreas Sydow yells like Howard Dean only with melody, Klas Ideberg delivers riffs with Klass, and of course, bass player Jörgen Löfberg has two ö’s in his name. Don’t let the orchestral beginning distract you from the boner inducing heaviness that cums your

way throughout this album. The simple but effective chorus of the title track will have you repeating “Lies! Layers of Lies!” at next Sunday’s church service, I promise. - David Von Bentley Darkbuster A Weakness For Spirits Stumble Stumble is putting out some consistently good stuff lately, and A Weakness For Spirits is no exception. It’s hard to pigeonhole this band, as they do a fair bit of genreshifting, (ska, doo-wop, rockabilly) but mostly they do straight-up punk ‘n’ roll Boston style, with a bit of Social D thrown in for good measure. When you think you have Darkbuster sussed, they take a sudden corner just to keep it fresh. Liked this on first listen, liked it even better second time around. It is easy to see why, unlike David Hasselhoff, Darkbuster are big in Boston. - Chris Walter Death Cab for Cutie Plans Atlantic Much like the idiot who spends all of his money on bookends before realizing that he has insufficient funds to actually buy any books, Death Cab for Cutie’s major-label debut is filled with fluff, excluding its relatively solid beginning and closing sections. While the cynic in me feels that this was done to lure in listeners and leave them with a good taste in their mouths, the reality is probably that Atlantic rushed the Cuties into an early fall release leaving them no choice but to hastily record and write a handful of songs that ultimately ended up as the “meat” of this album. Which isn’t to say that the album is an overall disappointment, it’s just far too contrived and hurried to actually say or mean anything. I’m guessing this wouldn’t have happened had they stuck around the indie world a little while longer. - Adam Simpkins Doomriders Black Thunder Deathwish Fans of Nate Newton’s other band, Converge, may be taken aback by how much Doomriders rock out in a southern fried, dirgey kind of way, but those who give this more than a listen or two should still fall in love with it. Of course, this does have a slight hint of phony - like we’re really supposed to believe these guys live in backwoods shacks and have facial hair down to their knees - but it’s completely forgivable in light of how heavy and dirty this record sounds. The wall of guitars and sandpaper vocals are almost identical to bands like Cursed and Coliseum, but Doomriders tend to, well, doom it up a bit more. With more focus on the almighty riff and the slower tempos, this should also please the Sabbath legions. Either way, a raging slab of beef. - Jason Schreurs Glitter Pals Unleash The Compassion Lovepump United In the same time that bands like The Mars Volta squeeze out one of their bloated and flamboyant wank-epics (roughly nine minutes), Poughkeepsie, NY’s Glitter Pals give you four massive car-wrecks caught on tape with the assistance of fellow noisenik Martin Bisi (Swans, Boredoms). With simply Jake on drums and Mookie (Genghis Tron) on

Off The Record guitar and vocal duties, Unleash The Compassion hits heavy and brutally loud. Beginning with the solemn chanting of monks, followed by swinging axes and dropping anvils, not a minute (or ear-drum) is spared. By the time you gather your bearings, the ride is over, but you’ll be a better man (or penis-less man) for it. - Adam Simpkins Gogol Bordello Gypsy Punks Side One Dummy Gogol Bordello might not be for everyone, as they don’t sound like Rancid, but I’m quite impressed. Gypsy Punks uses violins and accordions to successfully bring a Slavic sound to their punk rock, and it is indeed rowdy and entertaining. They aren’t as experimental as say, Submission Hold, but they are very original and engaging. To their credit, they eschew the tag “art band” or “folkloric band” and prefer to be known as a gypsy punk band. Living by your wits and swindling the unwary - what could be more punk? I’d like to shake hands with them for developing such a fresh and authentic concept. But I’d count my rings after. - Chris Walter H.I.M. (His Infernal Majesty) Dark Light Sire This Finnish gothic rock/metal quintet is poised to break the hymen of North America with its fifth album Dark Light. After gathering a rather large following in Europe, the record company execs here finally finished fucking their hookers and snorting rails and realized that this band can sell. H.I.M. is one of those bands that don’t seem all that special at first listen, but get stuck in your head. The next thing you know, you’re pushing 13-year old girls out of the way to get your cock autographed by Ville Valo (lead singer). That’s what Dark Light did to me - I was indifferent at first, maybe even disappointed. Now I love it, and it’s grown on me much like my cock did as Mr. Valo put his signature upon it. “The Face of God” and “Vampire Heart” up the ante for H.I.M. with their more layered song craft. “In the Nightside of Eden” is clearly influenced by Black Sabbath’s “You Won’t Change Me”, without stepping on their gigantic bag. But for my money the most surprising and best song on the album is actually “Dark Light” - a keyboard driven number that’s catchier than the Hep C swimming around in Pammy Anderson’s pussy. Mmmm… Hep C. - David Von Bentley (International) Noise Conspiracy Armed Love American On Armed Love, the first words uttered out of lead Conspirator Dennis Lyxzén’s mouth are: “I’ve got a problem”. You couldn’t be more right, kamrat. You haven’t released a solid album since Refused singlehandedly reshaped punk, and your (I)NC output has been spotty at best. Don’t get me started on your horrendous Lost Patrol project, please, I just don’t have it in me. Maybe you should be focusing your energy on the extensive catalogue of left-leaning propaganda on the band’s website, because your empty sloganeering and rabble-rousing is going nowhere: “let’s make history right now”. Wow, clever. Maybe if the music did anything, other than bump along at mid-tempo sans hooks or riffs, I could forgive your lack of

focus. But, you know. I just expected more, Dennis, I think it would be best if we didn’t see each other again. - Adam Simpkins Jack’s Mannequin Everything in Transit Maverick Jack’s Mannequin is Andrew McMahon, the singer, songwriter and pianist previously heard leading the band Something Corporate. This is his concept album, which is about returning to his hometown. It’s mainly influenced by Ben Folds. If you actually like this type of music, and you’re actually reading the Nerve, my guess is you’re actually weeping mascara onto your pink shirt by now, ‘cause you’ve probably seen a picture of a dink. And there is nothing wrong with that. - Dale DeRuiter Maximum RnR Horns Up Epitaph No effects, no frills, no bullshit, and straight up aggressive. This is exactly the way I like my trash/metal/punk and it upsets me that I haven’t listened to Max RnR before now. Only six tracks long plus the shortest song to my knowledge. “I Turn My Back” beats out Sublime’s “Drunk Driving” (2nd Hand Smoke, 1997) by 0.4 seconds. - High Plains Drifter Mike Park North Hangook is Falling Sub City Thanks to all the acid-dropppin’ hippie-freaks taking over the folk scene (Banhart, Wooden Wand, et al), the music of and for the people has been getting lost in a kaleidoscope of tracers and melting floors. Thankfully there are still earnest and straightshooting artists like Mike Park to spin yarns of race-relations and sociopolitical issues. While that sounds fun and all, the former Chinkees and Skankin’ Pickle frontman stays fairly relaxed in his approach while crafting catchy acoustic-based music. The excessive use of the cello is grating after a while, and although “Dear Canada” is musically the best track, its sentiment is patronizing and trite. But those are minor missteps. North Hangook is Falling isn’t likely to start any revolutions, but it’s refreshing to hear someone with a genuine resolve to better the world. - Adam Simpkins Moistboyz IV Sanctuary Jesus holy shit sweet hot fuck! Not only is there a new Moistboyz CD, but they are re-releasing the first three again! Deen Ween is half of Moistboyz – fast songs that are riddled with a viciously un-P.C. worldview informed by racism, misogyny and homophobia, yet undercut by Ween’s trademark frat-boy humour. Just go fucking buy it. - Dale DeRuiter Mustard Plug Masterpieces: 1991-2002 Hopeless Calling this collection ‘Masterpieces’ is laughable. I really hope they chose this name in jest. This best-of compilation is full of singalong choruses, spunky horn work and is generally enjoyable. Being relatively unfamiliar with Mustard Plug’s music – I previously heard only a few of their tracks on the cheap punk compilation albums that peppered the ‘90s – I’m probably not informed enough to

comment on whether these are in fact the band’s best creations. While about 80% of these songs got me to tap my foot and bop my ass to each twitchy guitar note, it is still a ska album and in my books ska is mediocre at the best of times. - Devon Cody North Mississippi Allstars Electric Blue Watermelon ATO It’s nice to see more contemporary bands tapping into traditional blues. NMA fuse blues and southern rock to create a radio-friendly record with a diverse array of tracks that could fit well on playlists at both CiTR and QMFM. They even dabble with a hip-hop blues-rock fusion on the second track “No Mo”. It’s a brave foray but a flop nonetheless. I can only think of one artist who has pulled this off successfully - R.L. Burnside, god rest his soul. My biggest criticism is that the Allstars should have included more uptempo stomp and holler ditties like the opening track, “Mississippi Bollweevil”. The album is disappointingly heavy on mellow tracks. After getting me riled with the album’s best song, “Bang Bang Lulu”, the last third of the disc left me ready for bed. - Devon Cody

TO N Y D A N Z A

Nerve: Fuckin’ wicked CD, but it’s a hard one to sing in the shower. Ever think of writing a song we could remember? Mason Crooks (drums): We’re not in the business of writing chart-topping classics. Our basic goal is to write songs that make us say, “That’s some heavy shit right there,” or something that makes us laugh. Having people share that feeling is just a huge bonus. Nerve: Love that little G’N’R bit at the start of “Cliff Burton Surprise,” but what’s that other riff before it? I’ve heard it before and it’s driving me bonkers not knowing. Mason: That’s just some riff Layne wrote one night at practice after watching a 24-hour America’s Funniest Home Videos marathon. That Saget’s a riot. Nerve: You guys have been compared to some of the big guns in extreme tech metal. How does that

The Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravaganza s/t Corrosive Aside from having the best name in metalcore (say it out loud), this Tennessee band also has something to offer for the extreme tech metal set. The Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravaganza (love that name) definitely stand on their own with a combination of the insane chaos of bands like Ion Dissonance and Despised Icon with an honest to goodness sense of humour that doesn’t get annoying. Maybe throw some Dillinger Escape Plan in there for good measure. Nowhere is this band’s wicked sarcasm more evident than on “Cliff Burton Surprise,” where the band teases with the all-toofamiliar refrains of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” before unleashing the whoopass that envelopes the rest of this album. And sure, there’s a fuckload of tail-chasing going on here, and there’s no way anyone could claim these to be actual songs, but what a clever, raging tail-chase it is. - Jason Schreurs

Various Old Skars and Upstarts Disaster If you like your punk rock, it’s hard to go wrong here. Duane Peters knows how to pick ‘em, and this disc contains 30 tracks of kick ass shit, all the way from the Briefs to Turbonegro. Old skars means that some of these tracks, such as the Adicts’ “Steamroller”, are quite old, but others are obviously new. The only one I was tempted to skip was a number by the Ducky Boys, which sounded disgustingly radio-friendly. What happened? I used to love that band! But I won’t whine about one track when the other 29 are damn good. My favourites include the Lizzies, Riverboat Gamblers, U.S. Bombs, Black Halos, Amazombies, the

affect your egos? Mason: It’s always nice to be compared to other great bands, but it doesn’t affect how we see ourselves. Then again, some dipshit online compared us to the Locust, so what’s a comparison besides someone else’s opinion? Nerve: Please, please tell me you don’t end your live sets in a big pile-up. Do you? Mason: Hell to the naw! Big pile-ups are gay. Unless you’re talking about everybody pilingup on the couch, eating Smores, and watching Dog the Bounty Hunter. Nerve: Taxi or Who’s the Boss? Please refer to the acting abilities of Tony Danza in your reasoning... While Tony did a good job as the lead in Who’s the Boss, we’re gonna go with Taxi. Plus, I’m pretty sure that Jonathan grew to up to be a swordswallowing wang-tangler. - Jason Schreurs

Worthless, the District, Duane Peters Gunfight - oh, hell, I’d have to list most of them. One thing I don’t understand is why Die Hunns covered “Ain’t Talkin’ About Love”, and Turbonegro covered “Suffragette City”. Sure, those songs are both guilty pleasures of mine, but I’d never admit it publicly. Wait a minute, I just did. D’oh! - Chris Walter Opeth Ghost Reveries Roadrunner Epic after epic after beautiful funeral dirge epic - nothing less from Sweden’s insuperable (and most mournful) death-prog monoliths. Producer/illuminator Steven Wilson is M.I.A., but Per Wiberg (Spiritual Beggars) is now keyboarding and mellotroning full-time, cueing almost every shocker moment with spurts of tinkling organ beauty: from the Arabic “Kashmir”-isms of “Beneath the Mire”, to the Ken Hensley/John Lord jam-along of “The Baying of the Hounds”, and its later candlelit reverb spook-out. New single “The Grand Conjuration” carefully streamlines the gruff grooves and eerie melodies into an evil fit for Opethian virgins (and old hats too). Comparing Ghost… to previous triumphs like Blackwater Park is like comparing 25-year-old Balvenie to 30-year-old Glenfiddich – no matter which, the action is heavy, cathartic, and endlessly cool. Too bad the band never arrives in Vancouver fully intact – Martin Lopez

is always absent from the drum stool - but I caught ‘em in London on the Deliverance tour, and found myself angelically lobotomized. For the metal connoisseur: BEST BAND ON THE PLANET, circa Oct. 2005. - Bertrand Run Like Hell Give ‘em Hell Dead City Give ‘em Hell reminds me a lot of Wham! or maybe Simple Minds. Ha, just fuckin’ with ya’. Had ya’ going for a minute, didn’t I? You were just about to rush out and buy it. Actually, Run Like Hell is a fair-to-middlin’ street punk outfit from NYC, with catchy riffs and sing-a-long tuff guy choruses. Nothing terribly original here, but Give ‘em Hell is a long way from shitty, and goes into my music library rather than the pile that goes to the pawnshop. And you won’t find any Wham! in my collection… - Chris Walter Scary Kids Scaring Kids The City Sleeps In Flames Immortal When I first heard the name of these confuckled young men, I figured the music would sound like bad Iron Maiden, but with Simple Plan’s singer. Then I figured I was just being arrogant. How would I know what they sound like? I’m not an oracle am I? Then I listened to these fools who, it transpires, actually mention Iron Maiden in their press release. Not surprisingly, then - the music is

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Off The Record boring, the singer whines, and I’m dumbfounded at how my pre-judgments all came to such vivid life. Maybe I am a prophet or something, because I was not surprised by one second of this album. “Skyscrapers crumble / In a world lost forever” – Scary Kids Scaring Kids are clearly talking about September 11th here, but these suburban jit bags are too vagina scared to actually say it. Instead, they hide behind mundane apocalyptic imagery as they have absolutely nothing important or cool to tell us. I recommend these guys go back to their jobs as lot lizards, because the world doesn’t need music too hardcore for the radio and too pillow biting for your average pillow biter. - David Von Bentley The Heck s/t HRM/Bodog Music What the Heck, or more correctly: what IS the Heck? This Van-city teen-trio’s first album effort is so mature that it betrays their average age of 17. Guitar prodigy and lead vocalist Brian Steeksma seems to be free of the strange affliction that targets most axe wizards: the inability to write a kik-ass song. Showing restraint and keeping the song free of the 10,000 notes a sec bullshit is a trait that few are born with. Parker Bossley executes simple, but full bass lines while Amanda Hamilton pounds out solid, old school four-onthe-floor beats. This is straight-up rock ‘n’ roll seen through the eyes of “kids”. - High Plains Drifter The Holy Mountain Entrails No Idea This is more of that stuff that passes itself off for “hardcore” nowadays, and while the musicianship occasionally approaches the level of say, S.T.R.E.E.T.S., I just can’t get past the “bitter, demented vocals” - and as you know, that’s a deal breaker for me. Maybe I’m just too old, because this is plenty gnarly, mean, and intense. If I was 16 and ready to kill, this would be right up my alley (no, not my ass). Pass the Geritol. *sigh*… - Chris Walter The Joint Chiefs …And Still We Kill Green Metal A massive overabundance of weed n’ booze iconography… and still The Joint Chiefs sound like ADD-ridden cokefiends licking powdered zoomer sticks. Impatient music - if I ever heard it - as if the whole band adores what they’re doing so fucking much, that even when shelled into a recording studio they can barely restrain from busting out accelerated drunken teenage rave-ups at every opportunity. A true, no-frills, groove-metal revival… ASWK is an analog treat in a world of squeaky & pristine mega-mart metal releases, the thick riffs and twiddly-fiddly all handled by just one super-able guitar (usually), instead of a Pro-Tooled wall of millions. Having missed any number of JC Asbalt annihilations, I can now, thank Christ, bang my head comfortably from home as Denton and his Dime Slime thrash metal madly in a goofy Anthrax mouth-froth frenzy. The Joint Chiefs win an additional eight points for one of the cleverest band names in rock ‘n’ roll. - Bertrand The Real McKenzies 10,000 Shots Fat Wreck Chords What, ye’ve no ‘eard the brilliant new disc by th’ Real McKenzies? Well, then,

Worst Cd of the Month

ye daft cunt, don’t even talk to me until ye have, or ye’ll be up for a burst mooth. Now, on yer bike! - Chris Walter Tommyland The Ride Universal This may be the most difficult CD that I’ve ever had to review and only partly because I had to listen to it first. I’m trying my best to pay attention to the music on The Ride… Wait a minute, I can’t lie (actually I can, I just reserve that right for cops and lawyers). You see, the problem is that all of these random thoughts about Tommy Lee/Motley Crue keep floating through my head and obstructing the proper thought process which keeps me – thankfully - from concentrating on this shit of an album, which by the way sounds as if Weezer and Nickelback were fucking in a broom closet. Random thoughts such as (a) the Dayglo Abortion lyrics, “you shout at the devil and I’ll kick his ass / Motley Crue is dead, it’s so funny I forgot to laugh.” (b) he fucks Pammy with a penis the size of a large barnyard animal (c) yes, I’ve seen the video, and (d) the fact that some one can have a “reality” show and simultaneously have no concept whatsoever of what “reality” is. Indeed, Tommyland has a population of 1. - High Plains Drifter Twilight s/t Southern Lord I have a confession to make. Black metal really, really scares me. Something about the high-pitched production sound and weird names like Hildolf and Azentrius, those bizarre looking black and white photos with the dim lighting, the pointy, indecipherable band logos… it’s all very unnerving, to say the least. Most of the time I just don’t go anywhere near the black metal, but when it’s done right, such as in the case of Twilight, I can’t help but be pulled into its icy, misanthropic world. Twilight features the founders of black metal projects such as Xasthur, Krieg, Draguar, and Nachtmystium, and if those names mean anything to you, then you know what I’m talking about. Those who think I just started speaking a different language, how about this: Twilight play the kind of black metal that has meaty riffs poking out of the snowstorm production, vocals that go beyond the usual black metal shriek (this is more of a demonic howl, muffled under a wall of white noise), and drums you can actually hear. Check it out. - Jason Schreurs

Yngwie Malmsteen Unleash The Fury Spitfire Holy Christ Almighty this was excruciating to listen to. Coming in at the prison shower rape length of 72+ minutes, it’s like taking it in the ass but not getting your throat slit at the end. In other words – it’s merciless and inhumane. Thinking of this fat arrogant Swede playing JS Bach songs on guitar, dressed like a fruity pirate and raising a half-boner at his own delusional awesomeness makes me sicker than a bulimic at a Swedish meatball buffet. For over 20 years now this bloated drunk has been putting out the same album, over and over again. His legacy begins and ends with nothing more than fulfilling the pitiful needs of gangly, acne covered guitar stu-

dents. I have never heard a single good thing from anyone that has met Ing-a-vay - that’s how his shit-covered name is pronounced - that wasn’t guitar related. He is notorious for throwing fairy-ish hissy fits that make Axl Rose look like a responsible human being, and he dresses like a shittered extra on the set of Amadeus. Yngwie – who otherwise looks like someone with a very sore sac sucking a lemon - claims that his ability to play scales faster than he can beat off another man’s cock somehow qualifies him as a musical genius. This smug living fart perpetually points out that classical music is his prime influence, the importance of which might be lost on you or I, but nonetheless feeds his dew starved ego. He continues his ridiculous tradition of covering Bach with not just one, but two songs - “Fuguetta” and “Paraphrase” on an album aptly titled Unleash the Fury, named after Mr. Malmsteen’s favorite gay bondage bar in Munich. Mr. Malmsteen has no respect for those of us who can’t play songs that are 300 years old, but the only thing remotely classical about any of this is the way Malmsteen once again misses the fucking point. By the way - It’s not that I can’t appreciate a great guitarist’s solo album. To my ears, Passion and Warfare by Steve Vai is a masterpiece any way you slice it, because Vai makes varied and interesting music - but this Swedish cross dresser doesn’t. This is neo-classical music minus the class. With song titles like “The Bogeyman”, “Beauty and the Beast”, “Cherokee Warrior” and my favorite, “Revelation (Drinking with the Devil)” – you should be able to imagine the nature of this dirty taint-like album. - David Von Bentley

Music DVD THOR An-THOR-logy 1976-1985 ThorToen/Smog Veil Sometimes I wonder how much product the muscled rock warrior THOR has got in him? Like, will we be barraged with THOR thunder for the rest of our years? On nights like this, sitting in a darkened room viewing An-THOR-logy 1976-1985, a DVD collection of THOR’s early years, I’d like to think the answer is yes. Collecting live footage, rock videos, and television appearances, the first volume of the THOR visual experience is a real hoot. Whether it’s a ludicrous appearance on Merv Griffin’s show or a damn funny

spot in a car stereo commercial, THOR is in fine form here. A handsome, ripped stud in his early years, it’s easy to see why the big man has been able to continue his rock career to this day and still look amazing. And I mean that in the most innocent way possible. But, that’s neither here nor there… fans of the early THOR romp and stomp will be flying high with this DVD. Featuring rare footage from the vaults of THOR’s personal collection, this had me longing for volume two. And, yes, THOR is definitely a visual beast. Whenever I listen to his CDs, I kinda just go, “ehhhh,” so the DVD format definitely fits him well. - Jason Schreurs

Unknown Instructors The Way Things Work Smog Veil Smog Veil released the latest Thor album and for that, I am thankful. If it wasn’t for this fact, after listening to The Way Things Work, I would surely have sent their office a package of my own shit as fair compensation for this CD. The press release describes it as an improvised punk-jazz-rock spoken word experiment. Although it is jazz, the improvisation seems amateur and I really can’t hear any punk or rock in this. Perhaps it’s just washed up punk rockers making a pathetic attempt at jazz? When I could focus beyond the cacophonic music, the spoken word sounded clumsy and callow. This is spiritless and sloppy. As a musical collection, it has the consistency, flavour and appeal of cold porridge. - Devon Cody THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 27

Off The Record

PAGE 28 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Worst Cd

Film

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 29

Film

PAGE 30 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Film

FRIDAY OCTOBER 14

DOORS 8PM SHOW 9PM

NOVEMBER 14

OCTOBER 18

WITH GUESTS

CRYPTOPSY

DOORS 7:00PM SHOW 8:0PM

COMMODORE BALLROOM

OCTOBER 24

ALL AGES

WITH GUESTS

WITH TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE

NOVEMBER 22

ALL AGES

THE END A LIFE ONCE LOST EARLY SHOW: DOORS 6PM SHOW 7PM

MESA LUNA

DOORS 7PM SHOW 7:45PM TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE

TRIVIUM AMOM AMARTH CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE

NOVEMBER 16

GENERAL ADMISSION DOORS 6:30PM, SHOW 7:00PM

WITH GUESTS WITH WITH GUESTS GUESTS

GOD FORBID, THE HAUNTED AND AND MNEMIC TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE

COMMODORE BALLROOM

TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE

CROATIAN CULTURAL CENTRE

TICKETS ALSO AT SCRAPE

DOORS 8PM SHOW 9PM

RICHARD’S ON RICHARDS

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 31

Skate

PAGE 32 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

Film Skate

Marina, ollie over the hip, Vancouver Skate Plaza. photo: Rhiannon Bader

This UTI ain’t what you think it is August 24th saw the Canadian premiere of “Under the Influence”, Toby Burger’s SoCal backyard pool extravaganza. The evening started with a ripping pool session, complete with Mike McKinlay, Craig Williams, Kris Foley, Rosie, Gary Harris, Trevor, 57, and others, until darkness fell and we settled in and around the shallow end as the vid was projected on the deep end wall. Jake Phelps started things off with a deep-end roll-in and then it was on like Donkey Kong… Salba’s triple carve lines took him over the light, loveseat and ladder… Omar flung a frontside heelflip over a corner loveseat… Gonz, Mountain, Partanen, Delgado and Alva were all in there… this video fucking rules. When the smoke had cleared and I was fishing my board out of the pool of beer cans littering the deep end, I realized that I’d just been part of one of the coolest events ever. “Under the Influence” is available directly from Toby Burger (tcburger@hotmail.com). - Jeff Chan “grand_wazoo@hotmail.com”

stevie d over barrier. photo: kim glennie

(Shreditor’s Note: This fictional China Creek neighbour is extra grumpy due to not existing. Being made up and non-real, out of D-Rock’s head, this non-person did not attend the Jaks China Creek comp.) You Punks Git Outta Thet Creek Skate-boarders. It was clear this was no ordinary athletic event. As I approached this motley crue, a stranger tweaked my nipple, perhaps some greeting ritual for these savages. These jean-jacketed “Jaks” seemed unconcerned about whether their strange “sport” was to be in the Olympics. Where is the finish line? Who is the fastest? Where are the sla-lom cones? Nowhere, that’s where. What then is their motivation? Why does Ray Beauchamp throw his carcass with such drunken meaty fury ? He has no shoe deal with Nike. And no World Cup points for visiting superstar Vanessa Torres, either. I don’t know why a lady like Ms. Torres was doing a death-defying doubles routine with that Nugget girl. They could hurt their ovaries with all those highjumps. Where are their team jackets, or coaches to tell them what to do and when to do it? Who tells them how to have fun? I scanned the crowd for faces in the crowd - some were risking Olympic rankings, even going so far as to ingest Reefers of Mary Jane. It was clear that this event was not sanctioned by OCO, FIFA, NAFTA, our Holy Father God or his son sweet baby Jesus for that matter. “Perhaps by Satan” I chuckled to myself, never one to take myself seriously, despite the seriousness of this serious situation. Absent too were key representatives of Vancouver Olymplastic 2010 such as Gordon and Christie Campbell-Clark and their pressured suicidal conformist offspring. I was told their kids are busy crumbling under the oppressive self-righteous weight and keening arrogance of those mighty egos. It’s too bad the CampbellClarks weren’t there as they rarely miss an opportunity to take credit for the efforts, risks and talents of other people. Youths took turns skate-boarding in this assphalt arena; hale fellows with names like Markie Anderson, Pat, and Derek from Option town. Young Geordon Faulkner seemed to be 2 places at once! Unladylike womenfolk Dayna, Char Hunter, and Rose Archie participated too, skate-boarding smoother than downy newborn unicorns farting pastel violet rainbows. You know, some of these girls are handsome enough, they would make good solid brides if only they were more modest. Some ‘boarders rise above, they’re gonna rise above. (Skate-boarders love the term “boarders”, it makes them seem more eXXXtreme on TV, and helps them get valued sponsors such as the Armed Forces). Aaron Carruthers skate-boarded smoothly, going so far as to slide his board on objects in the park! Plus moreover, he flipped it like a flapjack! I named his stunt the “flapjack flip” right there on the spot. I’ll bet nobody’s ever done that before! Another young man named Stevie Denim leapt from an empty cement pool onto a wood jump just like that daredevil Evil Kinevel. Maybe his agent could get him free dungarees from Bootlegger down at the mall? In the crowd, a so-called “Jay Pay” confessed to constructing this dangerously challenging plywood ramp-jump. More like “Danger Pay”, I would venture. The crowd murmered Ray was a prisoner of Evil, trapped in the house of disreputable dreamer Simon Snotface. A shifty crowd full of sinister aliases: Doug Donut. Pixie. Rocky. Maniac Dan. I thought this a skate-board contest, not a tax-evasion contest. When the “contest” finally ended I approached a young man of uncertain virtue I know to be a “Jak”. He lives on my block no less and yes, there goes the neighborhood. When I asked him for results he laughed in my face and said, “I threw ‘em in the garbage”. The nerve! For the love of God, is this somebody’s idea of fun? They think they can just do whatever, wherever and whenever they want! Nonconformity and individualism are hated by society! They’ll never be mainstream at this rate! What is this, some kind of free country? Who are these punks? -A. Nuss, President, CHTMIATPHBAFFYTSCATNWATF (Coalition of Homeowners That Moved In After The Park Had Been Around For Fifteen Years, Then Started Complaining About The Noise Well After The Fact)

vanessa torres is blunt beyond be-leaf. photo: george faulkner

Shreditorial: Shear the Pig This month’s Spot is like shearing a pig - lots of squealing, not a lot of wool. China Creek As of press time, the plan was to have a Planning and Environment subcommittee meeting around Oct. 4, then the Parks Board vote in late October. If the park’s torn down, ex-locals may hang out in your backyard, soaking in your Coleco Turtle Pool. You don’t want Jak juice in your Turtle Pool, now do you? Alternately, the underground may crap on your stairs in the grand rad-ition of Miss Kim’s Old Man. Jaks Comp: Gold- Aaron Carruthers, silver- Stevie Denham, bronze- Derek from Option, BC. Westbeach MiniRIP Argh! The rumours are true, the West side’s winter refuge is gone, off to Mainframe animation studios for Tony Hawk motion capture and will not return. ‘Beach boy Dan MacClure told me that while they may bring in a temporary ramp for events, the area will basically be a Burton/surfing area. It’s always unfortunate when the business of selling boardsports takes precedence over the actual doing of the sport, but let’s thank Westbeach for providing years of winter skating and take this as a strong reminder to support RDS Indoor so it stays open indefinitely. Leeside There was an Open House at Hastings Community Centre on Sat, Sept.17. There’s info at www.leeside.ca or email Matt Smed at leeside@vcn.bc.ca. Something, at least a concrete mini, will likely be done this year, so stay tuned. Correction Agency YOUR IMMEDIATE ATTENTION IS REQUIRED !!! Dear SKATE SPOT: We are acting under a contract of service with our client JereME Rogers, and wish to speak with you regarding your spelling his name JereMY. It would be in your best interest to contact this office at 1-800-MIS-SPLT as soon as possible to discuss this matter. Govern yourself accordingly. Gnart Opening Mebbe check out “Wing It”, a special delivery parcel packet art opening featuring Duncan Lewis, Daniel Curtis, and Mike Chui with music by Wax Romeo. It’s at Soma (2528 Main at Broadway) on Friday Sept. 30 at 9pm. If the ride is fly, you must buy. -D-Rock and Miss Kim, email us at downspace@telus.net. Thanks to Dan MacClure for Westbeach details and Jeff Cole for “shearing the pig”.

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 33

Fiction

Ainsworth

Pleasant Moments

Practice

By J. Ainsworth

By CC Rose

olene arrives at the space first. She unlocks the door and searches the wall for the light switch. Stale smoke and beer smell hits her in the face. She looks up at the skylight, wishing it would open. Wishing it would suck the stained, damp carpet out in one big swoosh. Across the hall, some morons are pounding away their mediocre version of Radiohead. It’s so loud her snare drum is protesting. She walks over, flips the snare off and sits down behind the kit. She tries to tune. Myra arrives next. She opens the door and stops dead. “Ugh! It stinks in here,” she says, throwing her bag down beside the bass rig. She lights incense and sticks it out of a hole in the wall. She clears the floor of a few cigarette butts and sits down to roll a joint. “So how you doin’ over there, Jo? How was your night last night?” Jolene mumbles something like, “It was alright” and shrugs. Myra looks up. “That good, huh?” The door opens and Randy walks in, with Leslie behind her, talking a mile a minute. “...And so then he whips his guitar behind his back, grabs the guy by the neck, and catapults him into the drum kit! It was so awesome! It was the best thing I’ve ever seen! You guys should’ve seen it! Oh, man I wish you had been there! What did you two do last night? Oh gross, what’s that smell? Dammit, I wish we could open that skylight.” Jolene smiles but doesn’t say anything. Myra looks up at them. “He couldn’t have ‘catapulted’ the guy. In order to catapult something you need an apparatus that will pull back with a certain amount of tension and therefore launch the item when you let go.” Leslie responds. Yeah, okay, Brains McGee. Why don’t you finish rolling that joint and smoke yourself into a stupor like the rest of us. You know, bring you down a notch.” “Funny thing is,” Myra says, “You’re all gonna smoke it with me. So I guess I’ll still be

the smartest.” She cackles loudly and slaps Leslie’s ass. Jolene rolls her eyes. Randy is slowly taking cords and pedals out of her bag. She opens her guitar case. “Aw fuck!” she yells. “What?!” Leslie and Myra ask. Randy sinks her head into her hands. “Anyone got a spare A-string?” Myra can’t resist. “No, but I got a G-string for ya, right here,” she says, bending over and pulling her pants down. Leslie grabs it and lets it snap. “Aagh!” Myra yells. “There, smarty-pants! I ‘catapulted’ you!” Leslie says, laughing. They fall to the ground in a heap. Jolene gets up, sighs, and steps over them and out of the room. “What’s her problem?” Leslie asks, sitting up and dusting herself off. Randy offers, “Maybe it’s the SOCAN thing.” “She said she was cool with it,” Leslie says. “No, it’s not that. She just really needs to get laid,” Myra says. Randy lets out a “hmph” and puts her jacket on. “I gotta go get strings. I’ll be back in a few.” She walks out. Myra and Leslie are still on the floor. “Was it something I said?” Myra yells. They laugh. Leslie grabs the joint and says, “Let’s light this fuckin’ thing.” In the bathroom, Jolene is staring at her face in the mirror. She wipes the leftover mascara from last night and splashes water on her face. She’s not sure how to tell them. Something happens when you play music with people, a certain bond, a brother or sisterhood. Being in a band is like a relationship, and not just with one person, but three. Jolene sighs. There’s no easy way to end it. But then she thinks about her new band, gets excited all over again, and feels at peace with her decision. If only she could get rid of that sinking feeling in her stomach. 

Something happens when you play music with people, a certain bond, a brother or sisterhood. Being in a band is like a relationship, and not just with one person, but three.

PAGE 34 THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005

ried out this line in the bar the other night. Actually, it just seemed to come up, so to speak, in the conversation. Chap: “I’m only addicted, to use the accepted medical definition, to five things, viz. Tobacco, Alcohol, Cocaine, Pornography, and Gambling.” Pretty Girl: “I’m addicted to Tobacco, Alcohol, Cocaine, Pornography but not Gambling.” I think it’s pretty clear that both of us have a very callous and inaccurate view of the horrors of addiction. Anyway, it’s wrong to worry about other people’s problems when it’s almost time for Christmas!! It’s the time of the year when everyone puts aside their base feelings and thinks about hearth and family. Yes, in the final analysis, Christmas is a lovely time of the year. One of the really great things about Christmas, if I personally had to only choose one, which is IMPOSSIBLE, but if I had to, at the threat of violence, please God no, I would have to say it’s all the cheques that come in the mail. The best is my GST return, which this year is something like sixty-six dollars per septum. In the yuletide fashion the cheques are gaily colored! You never have to worry about it bouncing like a fat man either. Also, if your in “that sort of mood”, and want to ensure an extra gift, you can make sure your rent check bounces like a fat man, and then it, I think, gets returned in the mail, along with a helpful message from your bank. It’s great, because it’s a Christmas where nobody ignored you. Christmas, which is the celebration of the birth of Our Lord the Baby Jesus, is a holiday that really separates the good people from the bad people. Sometimes presents come in a more tactile form. Such as collectable artworks, such as those available from me, at an affordable price, on every subject under the sun, including Baby Jesuses, St Joseph at the Cross of Arimathea, Cornucopias, Pilgrims Educating The Nude Savages, Nudes, “Splayed” Nudes, and Equestrian Portraits. For full catalogue and price list just call 604 720 7632 and ask for Terry. It’s that Easy! It must be depressing to spend Christmas as some drug-enthusiast or lifestyle-criminal in a halfway house. Oh, I don’t care. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, the presents you give are inappropriate. Sometimes they’re “age-inappropriate”. I once gave a huge pastrami I found to a distant cousin of one-years old. His bitch of a father took one look, at this gift from God, absofuckinglutley divine and mouthbefuckingwatering pastrami, and he said, “…oooooohhhhhh, I think that’s TOO BIG FOR BABY!” I left that Christmas day party with MY pastrami. In tears. Too big for baby. God, the hypocrisy of it all. That’s what hurt the most, because Christmas isn’t supposed to about hurting. Wreaths are a fairly important part of

Christmas Yuletide feelings, come to think of it. There is an unbelievable amount of uneducated debate about the making of a really good wreath to put on the door of your apartment, and ninety-nine percent of it is just the bleating of faggots, really, and I’m going to tell you why. I just asked a guy, (never mind who, his ego does not need anymore inflaming) how to make a wreath guaranteed to make the ladies gape. First you take a coat hanger, of the wire variety, and you grease it up a little. Then, take a garbage bag, a green one, that festive matt green colour, and cut it into strips. Then take the stripes and tie them all around the coat hanger. Sorry! First you have to untie the coat hanger, make it into a straight and proud metal staff. Then, after you tie on the ribbons, twist it into a sphere, or a circle or whatever shape. There you go. Hang on the door, guaranteed cunt-magnet. I think it would be neat to be a stewardess on an airplane, traveling into the sun, in a westwardly direction, and the next thing you know its not Sept. 24th anymore, but CHRISTMAS! I’ll bet you the captain makes a message as to this event over the intercomb. “Dear patrons,” he’d say, “dear patrons and passengers. Today is the Nativity of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Thank you for sharing this precious day with your friends at Aer Lingus.” It would warm a cockles’ heart. It’s wrong, I always felt, to pollute your self with so-called self-abuse on Christmas. Leave that for twice on Christmas Eve, two really good, long ones, with lube too, might as well go whole horse. Then three times on Boxing Day. That’s what the doctor ordered, self-abuse wise. “TOO BIG FOR BABY!” He didn’t know the half of it. Thanks for Reading! 

Christmas, which is the celebration of the birth of Our Lord the Baby Jesus, is a holiday that really separates the good people from the bad people.

NERVE CROSSWORD

SUBMIT a finished crossword and you could win 2 PASSES to THE BRIEFS CD RELEASE PARTY OCT. 30th, Vancouver B.C. Bring your completed puzzles in person:to The Nerve office weekdays between 12- 5pm or you can mail them to:The Nerve 508-825 Granville St. Vancouver, BC V6Z-1K9

By Dan Scum Across 1. Special police unit 5. Conceal the truth 8. Big lout 11. Le coleur du nuit 12. “Little k little d little ____.” (Stompin’ Tom) 13. Actor’s gig 14. Very very scary 16. Wicked 17. Craven of Horror 18. The C word 19. B-F connection 20. First name of Coast to coast host (ring a Bell?) 21. Barbie’s beau 22. Sloppy kiss 25. Country east of Ger. 26. Ten Commandments word 27. Aries 29. Fucked Up Beyond All/Any Recognition 32. Humplick, Harvey, and Giroux’s buddy 33. Fit __ _ Fiddle 34. Dark 35. Murders in the ____ Morgue 36. Clumps of hair 38. Central Intelligence Agency 39. Bob Hope event 41. Numbers assigned to days 42. Kilo Tango Sierra in CB speak 43. Wicked witch’s vector 44. Tense or Nuptial Agreement starter 45. Breaks the silence 47. American Rugby Association 48. British for cigarette 51. Witch feature 52. Italian Retard Out Cruising 53. French friend 54. At any time 56. Multiple killing spree 59. Condemn for eternity 60. Chronic pimples 61. Toronto gig spot 62. Covert 63. Non-human family member 64. Sums up

Episode 17 chronic, bombers, doobies, Down etc. 1. Angry face 37. Qatar, Dubai,etc. 2. Most bad 40. Furniture wood 3. Lung’s load 44. Setting for a high school 4. Line before, “Smell my Horror scene feet.” 46. Attain through merit 5. Café au ____ 47. Where William Wallace’s 6. Holiday ____ Cambodia lightning bolts are 7. Sperm target 48. Lost colour 8. H.P. __________ 49. “Don’t let stress make 9. ____ Jon Roth you _ ____!” 10. Dep or Dippity Do 50. Golfer’s stat 12. Amber or Ginger of Porn 52. Ain’t 13. Start over 54. Wood, O’neill, McMahon, 14. Trans World Airlines Sullivan and Broadbent 15. Gas 55. Mr. Kilmer 19. O.V. (Original Vampire) 56. Treasure hunter’s refer22. Ghost costume ence 23. ____ Szyslak-“That’s 57. Hole in one right, I’m a surgeon!” 58. Anger colour 24. It makes waste 25. “The Cruel Tutelage of Last Issue’s Solution: ___ Mei” (Kill Bill) 26. In God We _____ 28. The m in E=mc2 29. The F word 30. Apartment building’s suites 31. Vancouver Black Metal Gods 32. Pot, weed, smoke, lid, dope, bud, toots, ganja, reefer, wacky tabbacky, rope, mary jane, stash,

THE NERVE OCTOBER 2005 PAGE 35

Out Now. The Debut Release on SLUM Records. 4 tracks by Dandi Wind. Only on vinyl.

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